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iLy^A^....   ■  i^'^^l  "V-^' 


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cniir. 

PSYCH. 

LIBRARY 


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THERE    IS    NO    DEATH 


tDUC. 

PSYCH. 

LIBRARY 


Works  by  Florence  Marry  at 


85, 

13s 
42 

13 

148 

n 

IS9 


PUBLISHED    IN   THE 

INTERNATIONAL   SERIES. 


CIS. 

Blindfold,      -       -       -       -       -       -  50 

Brave  Heart  and  True,        -        -  50 

Mount  Eden, 30 

On  Circumstantial  Evidence,       -  30 

Risen  Dead,  The,         •        -        -        -  50 

Scarlet  Sin,  A,         -        -        -        •  50 

There  Is  No  Death,  -        -        -        -  50 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH 


BY 

FLORENCE    MARRYATT 

AUTHOR   OF 
love's   CONPLICT,"    "  VERONIQUE,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


"  There  is  no  Death — what  seems  so  is 
transition. 
This  life  of  mortal  breath 
Is  but  a  suburb  of  the  Life  Elysian 
Whose  portal  we  call Death."— Longfellow. 


Ni;\V    YORK 

NATIONAL   BOOK  COMPANY 

3,    4,    5    AND   6    MISSION    PLACE 


Copyright,  1891, 

BV 

United  States  Book  Comjakv 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FAMILY    GHOSTS. 

It  has  been  strongly  impressed  upon  me  for  some  years 
past  to  write  an  account  of  the  wonderful  experiences  I 
have  passed  through  in  my  investigation  of  the  science 
of  Spiritualism,  In  doing  so  I  intend  to  confine  myself 
to  recording  facts.  I  will  describe  the  scenes  I  have  wit- 
nessed with  my  own  eyes,  and  repeat  the  words  I  have 
heard  with  my  own  ears,  leaving  the  deduction  to  be  drawn 
from  them  wholly  to  my  readers.  I  have  no  ambition  to 
start  a  theory  nor  to  promulgate  a  doctrine  ;  above  all 
things  I  have  no  desire  to  provoke  an  argument,  I  have 
had  more  than  enough  of  arguments,  philosophical,  scien- 
tific, religious,  and  purely  aggressive,  to  last  a  lifetime ; 
and  were  I  called  upon  for  my  definition  of  the  rest 
promised  to  the  weary,  I  should  reply — a  place  where 
every  man  may  hold  his  own  opinion,  and  no  one  is  per- 
mitted to  dispute  it. 

But  though  I  am  about  to  record  a  great  many  incidents 
that  are  so  marvellous  as  to  be  almost  incredible,  I  do  not 
expect  to  be  disbelieved,  except  by  such  as  are  capable  of 
dece])tion  themselves.  They — conscious  of  their  own 
infirmity — invariably  believe  that  other  people  must  be 
telling  lies.     Byron  wrote,  "  He  is  a  fool  who  denies  that 


183101 


6  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

which  he  cannot  disprove  ; "  and  though  Carlyle  gives  us 
the  comforting  assurance  that  the  population  of  Great  Bri- 
tain consists  "  chiefly  of  fools,"  I  pin  my  faith  upon 
receiving  credence  from  the  few  who  are  not  so. 

Why  should  I  be  disbelieved?  When  the  late  Lady 
Brassey  published  the  "  Cruise  of  the  Stinbeam"  and  Sir 
Samuel  and  Lady  Baker  related  their  experiences  in  Central 
Africa,  and  Livingstone  wrote  his  account  of  the  wonders 
he  met  with  whilst  engaged  in  the  investigation  of  the 
source  of  the  Nile,  and  Henry  Stanley  followed  up  the 
story  and  added  thereto,  did  they  anticipate  the  public 
turning  up  its  nose  at  their  narrations,  and  declaring  it  did 
not  believe  a  word  they  had  written?  Yet  their  readers 
had  to  accept  the  facts  they  offered  for  credence,  on  their 
authority  alone.  Very  few  of  them  had  even  heard  of  the 
places  described  before  ;  scarcely  one  in  a  thousand  could, 
either  from  personal  experience  or  acquired  knowledge, 
attest  the  truth  of  the  description.  What  was  there — for 
the  benefit  of  the  general  public — to  prove  that  the  Sun- 
beam had  sailed  round  the  world,  or  that  Sir  Samuel  Baker 
had  met  with  the  rare  beasts,  birds,  and  flowers  he  wrote 
of,  or  that  Livingstone  and  Stanley  met  and  spoke  with 
those  curious,  unknown  tribes  that  never  saw  white  men 
till  they  set  eyes  on  them  ?  Yet  had  any  one  of  those 
writers  affirmed  that  in  his  wanderings  he  had  encountered 
a  gold  field  of  undoubted  excellence,  thousands  of  fortune- 
seekers  would  have  left  their  native  land  on  his  word  alone, 
and  rushed  to  secure  some  of  the  glittering  treasure. 

Why  ?  Because  the  authors  of  those  books  were  persons 
well  known  in  society,  who  had  a  reputation  for  veracity  to 
maintain,  and  who  would  have  been  quickly  found  out 
had  they  dared  to  deceive.  I  claim  the  same  grounds  for 
obtaining  belief.  I  have  a  well-known  name  and  a  public 
reputation,  a  tolerable  brain,  and  two  sharp  eyes.  What  I 
have  witnessed,  others,  with  equal  assiduity  and  perseve- 
rance, may  witness  for  themselves.  It  would  demand  a 
voyage  round  the  world  to  see  all  that  the  owners  of  the 
Stinbeam  saw.  It  would  demand  time  and  trouble  and 
money  to  see  what  I  have  seen,  and  to  some  people,  per- 
haps, it  would  not  be  worth  the  outlay.  But  if  I  have  jour- 
neyed into  the  Debateable  Land(which  so  few  really  believe 
in,  and  most  are  terribly  afraid  of),  and  come  forward  now 
lo  tell  what  I  have  seen  there,  the  world  has  no  more  right 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  7 

to  disbelieve  me  than  it  had  to  disbelieve  Lady  Brassey. 
Because  the  general  public  has  not  penetrated  Central 
Africa,  is  no  reason  that  Livingstone  did  not  do  so;  because 
the  general  public  has  not  seen  (and  does  not  care  to  see) 
wliat  I  have  seen,  is  no  argument  against  the  truth  of  what 
I  write.  To  those  who  do  believe  in  the  possibility  of  com- 
munion with  disembodied  spirits,  my  story  will  be  interest- 
ing perhaps,  on  account  of  its  dealing  throughout  in  a 
remarkable  degree  with  the  vexed  question  of  identity  and 
recognition.  To  the  materialistic  portion  of  creation  who 
may  credit  me  with  not  being  a  bigger  fool  than  the  remain- 
der of  the  thirty-eight  millions  of  Great  Britain,  it  may 
prove  a  new  source  of  speculation  and  research.  And  for 
those  of  my  fellow-creatures  who  possess  no  curiosity,  nor 
imagination,  nor  desire  to  prove  for  themselves  what  they 
cannot  accept  on  the  testimony  of  others,  I  never  had,  and 
never  shall  have,  anything  in  common.  They  are  the  sort 
of  people  who  ask  you  with  a  pleasing  smile  if  Irving  wrote 
"The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,"  and  say  they  like 
Byron's  "  Sardanapalus  "  very  well,  but  it  is  not  so  funny 
as  "  Our  Boys." 

Now,  before  going  to  work  in  right  earnest,  I  do  not 
think  it  is  generally  known  that  my  father,  the  late  Captain 
Marryat,  was  not  only  a  believer  in  ghosts,  but  himself  a 
ghost-seer.  I  am  delighted  to  be  able  to  record  this  fact 
as  an  introduction  to  my  own  experiences.  Perhaps  the 
ease  with  which  such  manifestations  have  come  to  me  is  a 
gift  which  I  inherit  from  him,  anyway  I  am  glad  he  shared 
the  belief  and  the  power  of  spiritual  sight  with  me.  If  there 
were  no  other  reason  to  make  me  bold  to  repeat  what  I 
have  witnessed,  the  circumstance  would  give  me  courage. 
My  father  was  not  like  his  intimate  friends,  Charles  Dick- 
ens, Lord  Lytton,  and  many  other  men  of  genius,  highly 
strung,  nervous,  and  imaginative.  I  do  not  believe  my 
father  had  any  "  nerves,"  and  I  think  he  had  very  little 
imagination.  Almost  all  his  works  are  founded  on  his  per- 
sonal experiences.  His_/l?r/<?  lay  in  a  humorous  descrip- 
tion of  what  he  had  seen.  He  possessed  a  marvellous 
power  of  putting  his  recollections  into  graphic  and  forcible 
language,  and  the  very  reason  that  his  books  are  almost  as 
popular  to-day  as  when  they  were  written,  is  because  they 
are  true  histories  of  their  time.  There  is  scarcely  a  line  of 
fiction  in  them.     His  body  was  as  powerful  and  muscular 


8  .      THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

as  his  brain.  His  courage  was  indomitable — his  moral 
courage  as  well  as  his  physical  (as  many  people  remember 
to  their  cost  to  this  day),  and  his  hardness  of  belief  on 
many  subjects  is  no  secret.  What  I  am  about  to  relate 
therefore  did  not  happen  to  some  excitable,  nervous,  sickly 
sentimentalist,  and  I  repeat  that  I  am  proud  to  have  in- 
herited his  constitutional  tendencies,  and  quite  willing  to 
stand  judgment  after  him. 

I  have  heard  that  my  father  had  a  number  of  stories  to 
relate  of  supernatural  (as  they  are  usually  termed)  inci- 
dents that  had  occurred  to  him,  but  I  will  content  myself 
with  relating  such  as  were  proved  to  be  (at  the  least)  very 
remarkable  coincidences.  In  my  work,  "  The  Life  and 
Letters  of  Captain  Marryat,"  I  relate  an  anecdote  of  him 
that  was  entered  in  his  private  "  log,"  and  found  amongst 
his  papers.  He  had  a  younger  brother,  Samuel,  to  whom 
he  was  very  much  attached,  and  who  died  unexpectedly  in 
England  whilst  my  father,  in  command  of  H.  M.  S.  Lame, 
was  engaged  in  the  first  Burmese  war.  His  men  broke 
out  with  scurvy  and  he  was  ordered  to  take  his  vessel  over 
to  Pulu  Pinang  for  a  few  weeks  in  order  to  get  the  sailors 
fresh  fruit  and  vegetables.  As  my  father  was  lying  in  his 
berth  one  night,  anchored  off  the  island,  with  the  brilliant 
tropical  moonlight  making  everything  as  bright  as  day,  he 
saw  the  door  of  his  cabin  open,  and  his  brother  Samuel 
entered  and  walked  quietly  up  to  his  side.  He  looked  just 
the  same  as  when  they  had  parted,  and  uttered  in  a  per- 
fectly distinct  voice,  "  Fred  !  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that 
I  am  dead  !  "  When  the  figure  entered  the  cabin  my  father 
jumped  up  in  his  berth,  thinking  it  was  some  one  coming 
to  rob  him,  and  when  he  saw  who  it  was  and  heard  it  speak, 
he  leaped  out  of  bed  with  the  intention  of  detaining  it,  but 
it  was  gone.  So  vivid  was  the  impression  made  upon  him 
by  the  apparition  that  he  drew  out  his  log  at  once  and 
wrote  down  all  particulars  concerning  it,  with  the  hour  and 
day  of  its  appearance.  On  reaching  England  after  the  war 
was  over,  the  first  dispatches  put  into  his  hand  were  to 
announce  the  death  of  his  brother,  who  had  passed  away  at 
the  very  hour  when  he  had  seen  him  in  the  cabin. 

But  the  story  that  interests  me  most  is  one  of  an  incident 
which  occurred  to  my  father  during  my  lifetime,  and  which 
we  have  always  called  "  The  Brown  Lady  of  Rainham." 
I  am  aware  that  this  narrative  has  reached  the  public 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  9 

through  other  sources,  and  I  have  made  it  the  foundation 
of  a  Christmas  story  myself.  But  it  is  too  well  authenti- 
cated to  be  omitted  here.  The  last  fifteen  years  of  my 
father's  life  were  passed  on  his  own  estate  of  Langham,  in 
Norfolk,  and  amongst  his  county  friends  were  Sir  Charles 
and  Lady  Townshend  of  Rainham  Hall,  At  the  time  I 
speak  of,  the  title  and  property  had  lately  changed  hands, 
and  the  new  baronet  had  re-papered,  painted,  and  fur- 
nished the  Hall  throughout,  and  come  down  with  his  wife 
and  a  large  party  of  friends  to  take  possession.  But  to 
their  annoyance,  soon  after  their  arrival,  rumors  arose  that 
the  house  was  haunted,  and  their  guests  began,  one  and 
all  (like  those  in  the  parable),  to  make  excuses  to  go  home 
again.  Sir  Charles  and  Lady  Townshend  might  have 
sung,  "  Friend  after  friend  departs,"  with  due  effect,  but  it 
would  have  had  none  on  the  general  exodus  that  took  place 
from  Rainham.  And  it  was  all  on  account  of  a  Brown 
Lady,  whose  portrait  hung  in  one  of  the  bedrooms,  and  in 
which  she  was  represented  as  wearing  a  brown  satin  dress 
with  yellow  trimmings,  and  a  rulT  around  her  throat — a 
very  harmless,  innocent-looking  young  woman.  But  they 
all  declared  they  had  seen  her  walking  about  the  house — 
some  in  the  corriddr,  some  in  their  bedrooms,  others  in  the 
lower  premises,  and  neither  guests  nor  servants  would 
remain  in  the  Hall.  The  baronet  was  naturally  very  much 
annoyed  about  it,  and  confided  his  trouble  to  my  father, 
and  my  father  was  indignant  at  the  trick  he  believed  had 
been  played  upon  him.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  smug- 
gling and  poaching  in  Norfolk  at  that  period,  as  he  knew 
well,  being  a  magistrate  of  the  county,  and  he  felt  sure  that 
some  of  these  depredators  were  trying  to  frighten  the 
Townshends  away  from  the  Hall  again.  The  last  baronet 
had  been  a  solitary  sort  of  being,  and  lead  a  retired  life, 
and  my  father  imagined  some  of  the  tenantry  had  their  own 
reasons  for  not  liking  the  introduction  of  revelries  and 
"  high  jinks  "  at  Rainham.  So  he  asked  his  friends  to  let 
him  stay  with  them  and  sleep  in  the  haunted  chamber,  and 
he  felt  sure  he  could  rid  them  of  the  nuisance.  They 
accepted  his  offer,  and  he  took  possession  of  the  room  in 
which  the  portrait  of  the  apparition  hung,  and  in  which  she 
had  been  often  seen,  and  slept  each  night  with  a  loaded 
revolver  under  his  pillow.  For  two  days,  however,  he  saw 
nothing,  and  the  third  was  to  be  the  limit  of  his  stay.     On 


lo  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  third  night,  however,  two  young  men  (nephews  of  the 
baronet)  knocked  at  his  door  as  he  was  undressing  to  go  to 
bed,  and  asked  him  to  step  over  to  their  room  (which  was 
at  the  other  end  of  the  corridor),  and  give  tliem  his  opinion 
on  a  new  gun  just  arrived  from  London.  My  father  was 
in  his  shirt  and  trousers,  but  as  the  hour  was  late,  and 
everybody  had  retired  to  rest  except  themselves,  he  pre- 
pared to  accompany  them  as  he  was.  As  they  were  leav- 
ing the  room,  he  caught  up  his  revolver,  "  in  case  we  meet 
the  Brown  Lady,"  he  said,  laughing.  When  the  inspection 
of  the  gun  was  over,  the  young  men  in  the  same  spirit 
declared  they  would  accompany  my  father  back  again,  "  in 
case  you  meet  the  Brown  Lady,"  th?y  repeated,  laughing 
also.  The  three  gentlemen  therefore  returned  in  com- 
pany. 

The  corridor  was  long  and  dark,  for  the  lights  had  been 
extinguished,  but  as  they  reached  the  middle  of  it,  they 
saw  the  glimmer  of  a  lamp  coming  towards  them  from  the 
other  end.  "  One  of  the  ladies  going  to  visit  the  nurseries," 
whispered  the  young  Townshends  to  my  father.  Now  the 
bedroom  doors  in  that  corridor  faced  each  other,  and  each 
room  had  a  double  door  with  a  space  between,  as  is  the 
case  in  many  old-fashioned  country  houses.  My  father  (as 
I  have  said)  was  in  a  shirt  and  trousers  only,  and  his  native 
modesty  made  him  feel  uncomfortable,  so  he  slipped  within 
one  of  the  otcter  doors  (his  friends  following  his  example), 
in  order  to  conceal  himself  until  the  lady  should  have 
passed  by.  I  have  heard  him  describe  how  he  watched 
her  approaching  nearer  and  nearer,  through  the  chink  of 
the  door,  until,  as  she  was  close  enough  for  him  to  distin- 
guish the  colors  and  style  of  her  costume,  he  recognized 
the  figure  as  the  facsimile  of  the  portrait  of  "  The  Brown 
Lady."  He  had  his  finger  on  the  trigger  of  his  revolver, 
and  was  about  to  demand  it  to  stop  and  give  the  reason 
for  its  presence  there,  when  the  figure  halted  of  its  own 
accord  before  the  door  behind  which  he  stood,  and  holding 
the  lighted  lamp  she  carried  to  her  features,  grinned  in  a 
malicious  and  diabolical  manner  at  him.  This  act  so  in- 
furiated my  father,  who  was  anything  but  lamb-like  in  dis- 
position, that  he  sprang  into  the  corridor  with  a  bound, 
and  discharged  the  revolver  right  in  her  face.  The  figure 
instantly  disappeared — the  figure  at  which  for  the  space  of 
several  minutes  Mr<?<?  men  had  been  looking  together — and 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  1 1 

the  bullet  passed  through  the  outer  door  of  the  room  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  corridor,  and  lodged  in  the  panel 
of  the  inner  one.  My  father  never  attempted  again  to  in- 
terfere with  "The  Brown  Lady  of  Rainham,"  and  I  have 
heard  that  she  haunts  the  premises  to  this  day.  That  she 
did  so  at  that  time,  however,  there  is  no  shadow  of  doubt. 

But  Captain  Marryat  not  only  held  these  views  and 
believed  in  them  from  personal  experience — he  promulgated 
them  in  his  writings.  There  are  many  passages  in  his  works 
which,  read  by  the  light  of  my  assertion,  prove  that  he  had 
faith  in  the  possibility  of  the  departed  returning  to  visit 
this  earth,  and  in  the  theory  of  re-incarnation  or  living  more 
than  one  life  upon  it,  but  nowhere  does  he  speak  more 
plainly  than  in  the  following  extract  from  the  "  Phantom 
Ship  "  :— 

"  Think  you,  PhiHp "  (says  Amine  to  her  husband), 
"  that  this  world  is  solely  peopled  by  such  dross  as  we 
are  ? — things  of  clay,  perishable  and  corruptible,  lords  over 
beasts  and  ourselves,  but  little  better?  Have  you  not, 
from  your  own  sacred  writings,  repeated  acknowledgments 
and  proofs  of  higher  intelligences,  mixing  up  with  mankind, 
and  acting  here  below  ?  Why  should  what  was  then  not  be 
now,  and  what  more  harm  is  there  to  apply  for  their  aid 
now  than  a  few  thousand  years  ago  ?  Why  should  you 
suppose  that  they  were  permitted  on  the  earth  then  and 
not  permitted  now?  What  has  become  of  them?  Have 
they  perished  ?  Have  they  been  ordered  back  ?  to  where  ? 
— to  heaven  ?  If  to  heaven,  the  world  and  mankind  have 
been  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  devil  and  his  agents.  Do 
you  suppose  that  we  poor  mortals  have  been  thus  aban- 
doned ?  I  tell  you  plainly,  I  think  not.  We  no  longer 
have  the  communication  with  those  intelligences  that  we 
once  had,  because  as  we  become  more  enlightened  we  be- 
come more  proud  and  seek  them  not,  but  that  they  still 
exist  a  host  of  good  against  a  host  of  evil,  invisibly  oppos- 
ing each  other,  is  my  conviction." 

One  testimony  to  such  a  belief,  from  the  lips  of  my 
father,  is  sufficient.  He  would  not  have  written  it  unless 
he  had  been  prepared  to  maintain  it.  He  was  not  one  of 
those  wretched  literary  cowards  who  we  meet  but  too  often 
now-a-days,  who  are  too  much  afraid  of  the  world  to  con- 
fess with  their  mouths  the  opinions  they  hold  in  their 
hearts.     Had  he  lived  to  this  time  I  believe  he  would  havq 


12  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

been  one  of  the  most  energetic  and  outspoken  believers  in 
Spiritualism  that  we  possess.  So  much,  however,  for  his 
testimony  to  the  possibility  of  spirits,  good  and  evil,  revisit- 
ing this  earth.  I  think  itvj  will  be  found  to  gainsay  the 
assertion  that  where  he  trod,  his  daughter  need  not  be 
ashamed  to  follow. 

Before  the  question  of  Spiritualism,  however,  arose  in 
modern  times,  I  had  had  my  own  little  private  experiences 
on  the  subject.  From  an  early  age  I  was  accustomed  to 
see,  and  to  be  very  much  alarmed  at  seeing,  certain  forms 
that  appeared  to  me  at  night.  One  in  particular,  I  remem- 
ber, was  thatof  a  very  short  or  deformed  old  woman,  who 
was  very  constant  to  me.  She  used  to  stand  on  tiptoe  to 
look  at  me  as  I  lay  in  bed,  and  however  dark  the  room 
might  be,  I  could  always  see  every  article  in  it,  as  if  illu- 
minated, whilst  she  remained  there. 

I  was  in  the  habit  of  communicating  these  visions  to  my 
mother  and  sisters  (my  father  had  passed  from  us  by  that 
time),  and  always  got  well  ridiculed  for  my  pains. 
"  Another  of  Flo's  optical  illusions,"  they  would  cry,  until 
I  really  came  to  think  that  the  appearances  I  saw  were 
due  to  some  defect  in  my  eye-sight.  I  have  heard  my  first 
husband  say,  that  when  he  married  me  he  thought  he 
should  never  rest  for  an  entire  night  in  his  bed,  so  often 
did  I  wake  him  with  the  description  of  some  man  or  woman 
I  had  seen  in  the  room.  I  recall  these  figures  distinctly. 
They  were  always  dressed  in  white,  from  which  circum- 
stance I  imagined  that  they  were  natives  who  had  stolen  in 
to  rob  us,  until,  from  repeated  observation,  I  discovered 
they  only  formed  part  of  another  and  more  enlarged  series 
of  my  '*  optical  illusions."  All  this  time  I  was  very  much 
afraid  of  seeing  what  I  termed  "  ghosts."  No  love  of  occult 
science  led  me  to  investigate  the  cause  of  my  alarm.  I 
only  wished  never  to  see  the  "  illusions  "  again,  and  was 
too  frightened  to  remain  by  myself  lest  they  should  appear 
to  me. 

When  I  had  been  married  for  about  two  years,  the 
head-quarters  of  my  husband's  regiment,  the  12th  Madras 
Native  Infantry,  was  ordered  to  Rangoon,  whilst  the  left 
wing,  commanded  by  a  Major  Cooper,  was  sent  to  assist 
in  the  bombardment  of  Canton.  Major  Cooper  had  only 
been  married  a  short  time,  and  by  rights  his  wife  had  no 
claim  to  sail  with  the  head-quarters  for  Burmah,  but  as  she 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  13 

had  no  friends  in  Madras,  and  was  moreover  expecting 
her  confinement,  our  colonel  permitted  her  to  do  so,  and 
she  accompanied  us  to  Rangoon,  settling  herself  in  a 
house  not  far  from  our  own.  One  morning,  early  in  July, 
I  was  startled  by  receiving  a  hurried  scrawl  from  her,  con- 
taining only  these  words,  "  Come  !  come  !  come  !  "  I  set 
off  at  once,  thinking  she  had  been  taken  ill,  but  on  my 
arrival  I  found  Mrs.  Cooper  sitting  up  in  bed  with  only 
her  usual  servants  about  her.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  I 
exclaimed.  "  Mark  is  dead,"  she  answered  me  ;  "  he  sat 
in  that  chair  "  (pointing  to  one  by  the  bedside)  "  all  last 
night.  I  noticed  every  detail  of  his  face  and  figure.  He 
was  in  undress,  and  he  never  raised  his  eyes,  but  sat  with 
the  peak  of  his  forage  cap  pulled  down  over  his  face.  But 
I  could  see  the  back  of  his  head  and  his  hair,  and  I  know 
it  was  he.  I  spoke  to  him  but  he  did  not  answer  me,  and 
I  am  sure  he  is  dead." 

Naturally,  I  imagined  this  vision  to  have  been  dictated 
solely  by  fear  and  the  state  of  her  health.  I  laughed  at 
her  for  a  simpleton,  and  told  her  it  was  nothing  but  fancy, 
and  reminded  her  that  by  the  last  accounts  received  from 
the  seat  of  war.  Major  Cooper  was  perfectly  well  and  anti- 
cipating a  speedy  reunion  with  her.  Laugh  as  I  would, 
however,  I  could  not  laugh  her  out  of  her  belief,  and  see- 
ing how  low-spirited  she  was,  I  offered  to  pass  the  night 
with  her.  It  was  a  very  nice  night  indeed.  As  soon  as 
ever  we  had  retired  to  bed,  although  a  lamp  burned  in  the 
room,  Mrs.  Cooper  declared  that  her  husband  was  sitting 
in  the  same  chair  as  the  night  before,  and  accused  me  of 
deception  when  I  declared  that  I  saw  nothing  at  all.  I 
sat  up  in  bed  and  strained  my  eyes,  but  I  could  discern 
nothing  but  an  empty  arm-chair,  and  told  her  so.  She 
persisted  that  Major  Cooper  sat  there,  and  described  his 
personal  appearance  and  actions.  I  got  out  of  bed  and 
sat  in  the  chair,  when  she  cried  out,  "  Don't,  don't !  You 
are  sitting  ri^ht  on  hivi  /"  It  was  evident  that  the  ap- 
parition was  as  real  to  her  as  if  it  had  been  flesh  and 
blood.  I  jumped  up  again  fast  enough,  not  feeling  very 
comfortable  myself,  and  lay  by  her  side  for  the  remainder 
of  the  night,  listening  to  her  asseverations  that  Major 
Cooper  was  either  dying  or  dead.  She  would  not  part  with 
me,  and  on  the  third  njght  I  had  to  endure  the  same  ordeal 
as  on  the  second.     After  the  third  night  the  apparition 


14  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

ceased  to  appear  to  her,  and  I  was  permitted  to  return 
home.  But  before  I  did  so,  Mrs.  Cooper  showed  me  her 
pocket-book,  in  which  she  had  written  down  against  the 
8th,  pth,  and  loth  of  July  this  sentence  :  "  Mark  sat  by  my 
bedside  all  night." 

The  time  passed  on,  and  no  bad  news  arrived  from 
China,  but  the  mails  had  been  intercepted  and  postal 
communication  suspended.  Occasionally,  however,  we 
received  letters  by  a  sailing  vessel.  At  last  came  Septem- 
ber, and  on  the  third  of  that  month  Mrs.  Cooper's  baby 
was  born  and  died.  She  was  naturally  in  great  distress 
about  it,  and  I  was  doubly  horrified  when  I  was  called 
from  her  bedside  to  receive  the  news  of  her  husband's 
death,  which  had  taken  place  from  a  sudden  attack  of  fever 
at  Macao.  We  did  not  intend  to  let  Mrs.  Cooper  hear  of 
this  until  she  was  convalescent,  but  as  soon  as  I  re-entered 
her  room  she  broached  the  subject. 

"Are  there  any  letters  from  China?  "  she  asked,  (Now 
this  question  was  remarkable  in  itself,  because  the  mails 
having  been  cut  off,  there  was  no  particular  date  when 
letters  might  be  expected  to  arrive  from  the  seat  of  war.) 
Fearing  she  would  insist  upon  hearing  the  news,  I  tempor- 
ized and  answered  her,  "  We  have  received  none."  "  But 
there  is  a  letter  for  me,"  she  continued  :  "  a  letter  with 
the  intelligence  of  Mark's  death.  It  is  useless  denying  it. 
I  know  he  is  dead.  He  died  on  the  loth  of  July."  And 
on  reference  to  the  official  memorandum,  this  was  found  to 
be  true.  Major  Cooper  had  been  taken  ill  on  the  first  day 
he  had  appeared  to  his  wife,  and  died  on  the  third.  And 
this  incident  was  the  more  remarkable,  because  they  were 
neither  of  them  young  nor  sentimental  people,  neither  had 
they  lived  long  enough  together  to  form  any  very  strong 
sympathy  or  accord  between  them.  But  as  I  have  related 
it,  so  it  occurred. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  15 


CHAPTER   II. 

MY   FIRST   SEANCE. 

I  HAD  returned  from  India  and  spent  several  years  in 
England  before  the  subject  of  Modern  Spiritualism  was 
brought  under  my  immediate  notice.  Cursorily  I  had 
heard  it  mentioned  by  some  people  as  a  dreadfully  wicked 
thing,  diabolical  to  the  last  degree,  by  others  as  a  most 
amusing  pastime  for  evening  parties,  or  when  one  wanted 
to  get  some  "  fun  out  of  the  table."  But  neither  descrip- 
tion charmed  me,  nor  tempted  me  to  pursue  the  occupa- 
tion. I  had  already  lost  too  many  friends.  Spiritualism 
(so  it  seemed  to  me)  must  either  be  humbug  or  a  very 
solemn  thing,  and  I  neither  wished  to  trifle  with  it  or  to  be 
trifled  with  by  it.  And  after  twenty  years'  continued  ex- 
perience I  hold  the  same  opinion.  I  have  proved  Spirit- 
ualism not  to  be  humbug,  therefore  I  regard  it  in  a  sacred 
light.  For,  from  whatever  cause  it  may  proceed,  it  opens 
a  vast  area  for  thought  to  any  speculative  mind,  and  it  is 
a  matter  of  constant  surprise  to  me  to  see  the  indifference 
with  which  the  world  regards  it.  That  it  exists  is  an  un- 
deniable fact.  Men  of  science  have  acknowledged  it,  and 
the  churches  cannot  deny  it.  The  only  question  appears  to 
be,  "  What  is  it,  and  whe?ice  does  the  power  proceed  ?  " 
If  (as  many  clever  people  assert)  from  ourselves,  then 
must  these  bodies  and  minds  of  ours  possess  faculties 
hitherto  undreamed  of,  and  which  we  have  allowed  to  lie 
culpably  fallow.  If  our  bodies  contain  magnetic  forces 
sufficient  to  raise  substantial  and  apparently  living  forms 
from  the  bare  earth,  which  our  eyes  are  clairvoyant 
enough  to  see,  and  which  can  articulate  words  which  our 
ears  are  clairaudient  enough  to  hear — if,  in  addition  to 
this,  our  minds  can  read  each  other's  inmost  thoughts,  can 
see  what  is  passing  at  a  distance,  and  foretell  what  will 
happen  in  the  future,  then  are  our  human  powers  greater 
than  we  have  ever  imagined,  and  we  ought  to  do  a  great 
deal  more  with  them  than  we  do.     And  even  regarding 


i6  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

Spiritualism  (xomthat  point  of  view,  I  cannot  understand 
the  lack  of  interest  displayed  in  the  discovery,  to  turn 
these  marvellous  powers  of  the  human  mind  to  greater 
account. 

To  discuss  it,  however,  from  the  usual  meaning  given  to 
the  word,  namely,  as  a  means  of  communication  with  the 
departed,  leaves  me  as  puzzled  as  before.  All  Christians 
acknowledge  they  have  spirits  independent  of  their  bodies, 
and  that  when  their  bodies  die,  their  spirits  will  continue 
to  live  on.  Wherein,  then,  lies  the  terror  of  the  idea  that 
these  liberated  spirits  will  have  the  privilege  of  roaming 
the  universe  as  they  will  ?  And  if  they  argue  the  hnpossi- 
bility  of  their  return,  they  deny  the  records  which  form 
the  only  basis  of  their  religion.  No  greater  proof  can  be 
brought  forward  of  the  truth  of  Spiritualism  than  the  truth 
of  the  Bible,  which  teems  and  bristles  with  accounts  of  it 
from  beginning  to  end.  From  the  period  when  the  Lord 
God  walked  with  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  garden  of  Eden, 
and  the  angels  came  to  Abram's  tent,  and  pulled  Lot  out 
of  the  doomed  city ;  when  the  witch  of  Endor  raised  up 
Samuel,  and  Balaam's  ass  spoke,  and  Ezekiel  wrote  that 
the  hair  of  his  head  stood  up  because  "a  spirit"  passed 
before  him,  to  the  presence  of  Satan  with  Jesus  in  the 
desert,  and  the  reappearance  of  Moses  and  Elias,  the 
resurrection  of  Christ  Himself,  and  His  talking  and  eating 
with  His  disciples,  and  the  final  account  of  John  being 
caught  up  to  Heaven  to  receive  the  Revelations — all  is 
Spiritualism^  and  nothing  else.  The  Protestant  Church 
that  pins  its  faith  upon  the  Bible,  and  nothing  but  the 
Bible,  cannot  deny  that  the  spirits  of  mortal  men  have  re- 
appeared and  been  recognized  upon  this  earth,  as  when 
the  graves  opened  at  the  time  of  the  Christ'?  crucifixion, 
and  "  many  bodies  of  those  that  were  dead  arose  and  went 
into  the  city,  and  were  seen  of  many."  The  Catholic 
Church  does  not  attempt  to  deny  it.  AH  her  legends  and 
miracles  (which  are  disbelieved  and  ridiculed  by  the  Pro- 
testants aforesaid)  are  founded  on  the  same  truth — the 
miraculous  or  supernatural  return  (as  it  is  styled)  of  those 
who  are  gone,  though  I  hope  to  make  my  readers  believe, 
as  I  do,  that  there  is  nothing  miraculous  in  it,  and  far  from 
being  superm-ixxraX  it  is  only  a  continuation  of  Nature. 
Putting  the  churches  and  the  Bible,  however,  on  one  side, 
the  History  of  Nations  proves  it  to  be  possible.     There  is 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  tf 

not  a  people  on  the  face  of  the  globe  that  has  not  its 
(so-called)  superstitions,  nor  a  family  hardly,  which  has 
not  experienced  some  proofs  of  spiritual  communion  with 
earth.  Where  learning  and  science  have  thrust  all  belief 
out  of  sight,  it  is  only  natural  that  the  man  who  does  not 
believe  in  a  God  nor  a  Hereafter  should  not  credit  the 
existence  of  spirits,  nor  the  possibility  of  communicating 
with  them.  But  the  lower  we  go  in  the  scale  of  society, 
the  more  simple  and  childlike  the  mind,  the  more  readily 
does  such  a  faith  gain  credence,  and  the  more  stories  you 
will  hear  to  justify  belief.  It  is  just  the  same  with  religion, 
which  is  hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  revealed  to 
babes. 

If  I  am  met  here  with  the  objection  that  the  term  "  Spi- 
ritualism "  has  been  at  times  mixed  up  with  so  much  that 
is  evil  as  to  become  an  offence,  I  have  no  better  answer  to 
make  than  by  turning  to  the  irrefragable  testimony  of  the 
Past  and  Present  to  prove  that  in  all  ages,  and  of  all  reli- 
gions, there  have  been  corrupt  and  demoralized  exponents 
whose  vices  have  threatened  to  pull  down  the  fabric  they 
lived  to  raise.  Christianity  itself  would  have  been  over- 
thrown before  now,  had  we  been  unable  to  separate  its 
doctrine  from  its  practice. 

I  held  these  views  in  the  month  of  February,  1873,  when 
I  made  one  of  a  party  of  friends  assembled  at  the  house  of 
Miss  Elizabeth  Philip,  in  Gloucester  Crescent,  and  was 
introduced  to  Mr.  Henry  Dunphy  of  the  Morning  Fost, 
both  of  them  since  gone  to  join  the  great  majority.  Mr. 
Dunphy  soon  got  astride  of  his  favorite  hobby  of  Spiritual- 
ism, and  gave  me  an  interesting  account  of  some  of  the 
seances  he  had  attended.  I  had  heard  so  many  clever  men 
and  women  discuss  the  subject  before,  that  I  had  begun  to 
believe  on  their  authority  that  there  must  be  "  something 
in  it,"  but  I  held  the  opinion  that  sittings  in  the  dark  must 
afford  so  much  liberty  for  deception,  that  I  would  engage 
in  none  where  I  was  not  permitted  the  use  of  my  eye- 
sight. 

I  expressed  myself  somewhat  after  this  fashion  to  Mr. 
Dunphy.  He  replied,  "Then  the  time  has  arrived  for  you 
to  investigate  Spiritualism,  for  I  can  introduce  you  to  a 
medium  who  will  show  you  the  faces  of  the  dead."  This 
proposal  exactly  met  my  wishes,  and  I  gladly  accepted  it. 
Annie  Thomas  (Mrs.  Pender  Cudlip,)  the  novelist,  who  is 

2 


1 8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

an  intimate  friend  of  mine,  was  staying  with  me  at  the  time 
and  became  as  eager  as  I  was  to  investigate  the  phenomena. 
We  took  the  address  Mr.  Dunphy  gave  us  of  Mrs.  Hohnes, 
the  American  medium,  then  visiting  London,  and  lodging 
in  Old  Quebec  Street,  Portman  Square,  but  we  refused  his 
introduction,  preferring  to  go  iftcognito.  Accordingly,  the 
next  evening,  when  she  held  a  public  seance,  we  presented 
ourselves  at  Mrs.  Holmes'  door  ;  and  having  first  removed 
our  wedding-rings,  and  tried  to  look  as  virginal  as  possible, 
sent  up  our  names  as  Miss  Taylor  and  Miss  Turner.  I  am 
perfectly  aware  that  this  medium  was  said  afterwards  to  be 
untrustworthy.  So  may  a  servant  who  was  perfectly 
honest,  whilst  in  my  service,  leave  me  for  a  situation  where 
she  is  detected  in  theft.  That  does  not  alter  the  fact  that 
she  stole  nothing  from  me.  I  do  not  think  I  know  a  single 
medium  of  whom  I  have  nor  (at  some  time  or  other)  heard 
the  same  thing,  and  I  do  not  think  I  know  a  single  woman 
whom  I  have  not  also,  at  some  time  or  other,  heard  scan- 
dalized by  her  own  sex,  however  pure  and  chaste  she  may 
imagine  the  world  holds  her.  The  question  affects  me  in 
neither  case.  I  value  my  acquaintances  for  what  they  are 
to  me,  not  for  what  they  may  be  to  others;  and  I  have 
placed  trust  in  my  media  from  what  I  individually  have 
seen  and  heard,  and  proved  to  be  genuine  in  their  presence, 
and  not  from  what  others  may  imagine  they  have  found 
out  about  them.  It  is  no  detriment  to  my  witness  that  the 
media  I  sat  with  cheated  somebody  else,  either  before  or 
after.  My  business  was  only  to  take  care  that  /  was  not 
cheated,  and  I  have  never,  in  Spiritualism,  accepted  any- 
thing at  the  hands  of  others  that  I  could  not  prove  for  my- 
self. 

Mrs.  Holmes  did  not  receive  us  very  graciously  on  the 
present  occasion.  We  were  strangers  to  her — probably 
sceptics,  and  she  eyed  us  rather  coldly.  It  was  a  bitter 
night,  and  the  snow  lay  so  thick  upon  the  ground  that  we 
had  some  difficulty  in  procuring  a  hansom  to  take  us  from 
Bayswater  to  Ola  Quebec  Street.  No  other  visitors  arrived, 
and  after  a  little  while  Mrs.  Holmes  offered  to  return  our 
money  (ten  shillings),  as  she  said  if  she  did  sit  with  us, 
there  would  probably  be  no  manifestations  on  account  of 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  (Often  since  then  I  have 
proved  her  assertion  to  be  true,  and  found  that  any 
extreme  of  heat  or  cold  is  liable  to  make  a  seance  a  dead 
failure). 


THERE  IS  KO   DEATIL  tg 

But  Annie  Thomas  had  to  return  to  her  home  in  Tor- 
quay on  the  following  day,  and  so  we  begged  the  medium 
to  try  at  least  to  show  us  something,  as  we  were  very 
curious  on  the  subject.  I  am  not  quite  sure  what  I  ex- 
pected or  hoped  for  on  this  occasion.  I  was  full  of  curiosity 
and  anticipation,  but  I  am  sure  that  I  never  thought  I 
should  see  any  face  which  I  could  recognize  as  having  been 
on  earth.  We  waited  till  nine  o'clock  in  hopes  that  a  circle 
would  be  formed;  but  as  no  one  else  came,  Mrs.  Holmes 
consented  to  sit  with  us  alone,  warning  us,  however,  several 
times  to  prepare  for  a  disappointment.  The  lights  were 
therefore  extinguished,  and  we  sat  for  the  usual  preliminary 
dark  seance^  which  was  good,  perhaps,  but  has  nothing  to 
do  with  a  narrative  of  facts,  proved  to  be  so.  When  it 
concluded,  the  gas  was  re-Ht  and  we  sat  for  "  Spirit 
Faces." 

There  were  two  small  rooms  connected  by  folding  doors. 
Annie  Thomas  and  I,  were  asked  to  go  into  the  back  room 
— to  lock  the  door  communicating  with  the  landings,  and 
secure  it  with  our  own  seal,  stamped  upon  a  piece  of  tape 
stretched  across  the  opening — to  examine  the  window  and 
bar  the  shutter  inside — to  search  the  room  thoroughly,  in 
fact,  to  see  that  no  one  was  concealed  in  it — and  we  did 
all  this  as  a  matter  of  business.  When  we  had  satisfied 
ourselves  that  no  one  could  enter  from  the  back,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Holmes,  Annie  Thomas,  and  I  were  seated  on  four 
chairs  in  the  front  room,  arranged  in  a  row  before  the  fold- 
ing doors,  which  were  opened,  and  a  square  of  black  calico 
fastened  across  the  aperture  from  one  wall  to  the  other.  In 
this  piece  of  calico  was  cut  a  square  hole  about  the  size  of 
an  ordinary  window,  at  which  we  were  told  the  spirit  faces 
(if  any)  would  appear.  There  was  no  singing,  nor  noise  of 
any  sort  made  to  drown  the  sounds  of  preparation,  and  we 
could  have  heard  even  a  rustle  in  the  next  room.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Holmes  talked  to  us  of  their  various  experiences, 
until,  we  were  almost  tired  of  waiting,  when  something 
white  and  indistinct  like  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke,  or  a 
bundle  of  gossamer,  appeared  and  disappeared  again. 

"  They  are  coming  !  I  am  glad  1  "  said  Mrs.  Holmes.  "  I 
didn't  think  we  should  get  anything  to-night," — and  my 
friend  and  I  were  immediately  on  the  tiptoe  of  expectation. 
The  white  mass  advanced  and  retreated  several  times,  and 
finally  settled  before  the  aperture  and  opened  in  the  mid- 


20  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

die,  when  a  female  face  was  distinctly  to  be  seen  above  the 
black  calico.  What  was  our  amazement  to  recognize  the 
features  of  Mrs.  Thomas,  Annie  Thomas'  mother.  Here  I 
should  tell  my  readers  that  Annie's  father,  who  was  a  lieu- 
tenant in  the  Royal  Navy  and  captain  of  the  coastguard  at 
Morston  in  Norfolk,  had  been  a  near  neighbor  and  great 
friend  of  my  father.  Captain  Marryat,  and  their  children 
had  associated  like  brothers  and  sisters.  I  had  therefore 
known  Mrs.  Thomas  well,  and  recognized  her  at  once,  as, 
of  course,  did  her  daughter.  The  witness  of  two  people  is 
considered  sufficient  in  law.  It  ought  to  be  accepted  by 
society.  Poor  Annie  was  very  much  affected,  and  talked  to 
her  mother  in  the  most  incoherent  manner.  The  spirit  did 
not  appear  able  to  answer  in  words,  but  she  bowed  her 
head  or  shook  it,  according  as  she  wished  to  say  "yes  "  or 
"  no."  I  could  not  help  feeling  awed  at  the  appearance  of 
the  dear  old  lady,  but  the  only  thing  that  puzzled  me  was 
the  cap  she  wore,  which  was  made  of  white  net,  quilled 
closely  round  her  face,  and  unlike  any  I  had  ever  seen  her 
wear  in  life.  I  whispered  this  to  Annie,  and  she  replied 
at  once,  "  It  is  the  cap  she  was  buried  in,"  which  settled 
the  question.  Mrs.  Thomas  had  possessed  a  very  pleasant 
but  very  uncommon  looking  face,  with  bright  black  eyes, 
and  a  complexion  of  pink  and  white  like  that  of  a  child.  It 
was  some  time  before  Annie  could  be  persuaded  to  let  her 
mother  go,  but  the  next  face  that  presented  itself  astonished 
her  quite  as  much,  for  she  recognized  it  as  that  of  Captain 
Gordon,  a  gentleman  whom  she  had  known  intimately  and 
for  a  length  of  time.  I  had  never  seen  Captain  Gordon  in 
the  flesh,  but  I  had  heard  of  him,  and  knew  he  had  died 
from  a  sudden  accident.  All  I  saw  was  the  head  of  a  good- 
looking,  fair,  young  man,  and  not  feeling  any  personal 
interest  in  his  appearance,  I  occupied  the  time  during 
which  my  friend  conversed  with  him  about  olden  days,  by 
minutely  examining  the  working  of  the  muscles  of  his 
throat,  which  undeniably  stretched  when  his  head  moved. 
As  I  was  doing  so,  he  leaned  forward,  and  I  saw  a  dark 
stain,  which  looked  like  a  clot  of  blood,  on  his  fair  hair,  on 
the  left  side  of  the  forehead. 

"  Annie !  what  did  Captain  Gordon  die  of? "  I  asked. 
**  He  fell  from  a  railway  carriage,"  she  replied,  "  and  struck 
his  head  upon  the  line."  I  then  pointed  out  to  her  the 
blood  upon  his  hair.     Several  other  faces  appeared,  which 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  21 

we  could  not  recognize.  At  last  came  one  of  a  gentleman, 
apparently  moulded  like  a  bust  in  plaster  of  Paris.  He  had 
a  kind  of  smoking  cap  upon  the  head,  curly  hair,  and  a 
beard,  but  from  being  perfectly  colorless,  he  looked  so  un- 
like nature,  that  I  could  not  trace  a  resemblance  to  any 
friend  of  mine,  though  he  kept  on  bowing  in  my  direction, 
to  indicate  that  I  knew,  or  had  known  him.  I  examined 
this  face  again  and  again  in  vain.  Nothing  in  it  struck  me 
as  familiar,  until  the  mouth  broke  into  a  grave,  amused 
smile  at  my  perplexity.  In  a  moment  I  recognized  it  as 
that  of  my  dear  old  friend,  John  Powles,  whose  history  I 
shall  relate  inextenso  further  on.  I  exclaimed  "Powles," 
and  sprang  towards  it,  but  with  my  hasty  action  the  figure 
disappeared.  I  was  terribly  vexed  at  my  imprudence,  for 
this  was  the  friend  of  all  others  I  desired  to  see,  and  sat 
there,  hoping  and  praying  the  spirit  would  return,  but  it  did 
not.  Annie  Thomas'  mother  and  friend  both  came  back 
several  times  ;  indeed,  Annie  recalled  Captain  Gordon  so 
often,  that  on  his  last  appearance  the  power  was  so  ex- 
hausted, his  face  looked  like  a  faded  sketch  in  water-colors, 
but  "  Powles  "  had  vanished  altogether.  The  last  face  we 
saw  that  night  was  that  of  a  little  girl,  and  only  her  eyes 
and  nose  were  visible,  the  rest  of  her  head  and  face  being 
enveloped  in  some  white  flimsy  material  like  muslin.  Mrs. 
Holmes  asked  her  for  whom  she  came,  and  she  intimated 
that  it  was  for  me.  I  said  she  must  be  mistaken,  and  that 
I  had  known  no  one  in  life  like  her.  The  medium  ques- 
tioned her  very  closely,  and  tried  to  put  her  "out  of  court," 
as  it  were.  Still,  the  child  persisted  that  she  came  for 
me.  Mrs.  Holmes  said  to  me,  "  Cannot  you  remember 
anyone  of  that  age  connected  with  you  in  the  spirit 
world  ?  No  cousin,  nor  niece,  nor  sister,  nor  the  child  of 
a  friend  ? "  I  tried  to  remember,  but  I  could  not,  and 
answered,  "  No  !  no  child  of  that  age."  She  then  addressed 
the  little  spirit.  "  You  have  made  a  mistake.  There  is  no 
one  here  who  knows  you.  You  had  better  move  on."  So 
the  child  did  move  on,  but  very  slowly  and  reluctantly.  I 
could  read  her  disappointment  in  her  eyes,  and  after  she 
had  disappeared,  she  peeped  round  the  corner  again  and 
looked  at  me,  longingly.  This  was  "  Florence,"  my  dear 
lost  child  (as  I  then  called  her),  who  had  left  me  as  a  little 
infant  of  ten  days  old,  and  whom  I  could  not  at  first  recog- 
nize as  a  young  girl  of  ten  years.     Her  identity,  however, 


22  THERE  IS  1^0  DEATH. 

has  been  proved  to  me  since,  beyond  all  doubt,  as  will  be 
seen  in  the  chapter  which  relates  my  reunion  with  her,  and 
is  headed  "  My  Spirit  Child."  Thus  ended  the  first  seance 
at  which  I  ever  assisted,  and  it  made  a  powerful  impression 
upon  my  mind.  Mrs.  Holmes,  in  bidding  us  good-night, 
said,  "  You  two  ladies  must  be  very  powerful  mediums.  I 
never  held  so  successful  a  seance  with  strangers  in  my  life 
before."  This  news  elated  us — we  were  eager  to  pursue 
our  investigations,  and  were  enchanted  to  think  we  could 
have  seances  at  home,  and  as  soon  as  Annie  Thomas  took 
up  her  residence  in  London,  we  agreed  to  hold  regular 
meetings  for  the  purpose.  This  was  the  seance  that  made 
me  a  student  of  the  psychological  phenomena,  which  the 
men  of  the  nineteenth  century  term  Spiritualism.  Had  it 
turned  out  a  failure,  I  might  now  have  been  as  most  men 
are.  Qtiien  sabe  ?  As  it  was,  it  incited  me  to  go  on  and  on, 
until  I  have  seen  and  heard  things  which  at  that  moment 
would  have  seemed  utterly  impossible  to  me.  And  I  would 
not  have  missed  the  experience  I  have  passed  through  for 
all  the  good  this  world  could  offer  me 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  23 


CHAPTER  III. 

CURIOUS    COINCIDENCES. 

Before  I  proceed  to  write  down  the  results  of  my  private 
and  premeditated  investigations,  I  am  reminded  to  say  a 
word  respecting  the  permission  I  received  for  the  pursuit 
of  Spiritualism.  As  soon  as  I  expressed  my  curiosity  on 
the  subject,  I  was  met  on  all  sides  with  the  objection  that, 
as  I  am  a  Catholic,  I  could  not  possibly  have  anything  to 
do  with  the  matter,  and  it  is  a  fact  that  the  Church  strictly 
forbids  all  meddling  with  necromancy,  or  communion  with 
the  departed.  Necromancy  is  a  terrible  word,  is  it  not? 
especially  to  such  people  as  do  not  understand  its  meaning, 
and  only  associate  it  with  the  dead  of  night  and  charmed 
circles,  and  seething  caldrons,  and  the  arch  fiend,  in 
propria  persona,  with  two  horns  and  a  tail.  Yet  it  seems 
strange  to  me  that  the  Catholic  Church,  whose  very  doc- 
trine is  overlaid  with  Spiritualism,  and  who  makes  it  a 
matter  of  belief  that  the  Saints  hear  and  help  us  in  our 
prayers  and  the  daily  actionsof  our  lives,  and  recommends 
our  kissing  the  ground  every  morning  at  the  feet  of  our 
guardian  angel,  should  consider  it  unlawful  for  us  to  com- 
municate with  our  departed  relatives.  I  cannot  see  the 
difference  in  iniquity  between  speaking  to  John  Powles, 
who  was  and  is  a  dear  and  trusted  friend  of  mine,  and 
Saint  Peter  of  Alcantara,  who  is  an  old  man  whom  I  never 
saw  in  this  life.  They  were  both  men,  both  mortal,  and 
are  both  spirits.  Again,  surely  my  mother  who  was  a 
pious  woman  all  her  life,  and  is  now  in  the  other  world, 
would  be  just  as  likely  to  take  an  interest  in  my  welfare, 
and  to  try  and  promote  the  prospect  of  our  future  meeting, 
as  Saint  Veronica  Guiliani,  who  is  my  patron.  Yet  were 
I  to  spend  half  my  time  in  prayer  before  Saint  Veronica's 
altar,  asking  her  help  and  guidance,  I  should  be  doing 
right  (according  to  the  Church),  but  if  I  did  the  same  thing 
at  my  mother's  grave,  or  spoke  to  her  at  a  seance,  I  should 
be  doing  wrong.     These  distinctions  without  a  difference 


34  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

were  hard  nuls  to  crack,  and  I  was  bound  to  settle  the 
matter  with  my  conscience  before  I  went  on  with  my 
investigations. 

It  is  a  fact  that  I  have  met  quite  as  many  Catholics  as 
Protestants  (especially  of  the  higher  classes)  amongst  the 
investigators  of  Spiritualism,  and  I  have  not  been  surprised 
at  it,  for  who  could  better  understand  and  appreciate  the 
beauty  of  communications  from  the  spirit  world  than  mem- 
bers of  that  Church  which  instructs  us  to  believe  in  the 
communion  of  saints,  as  an  ever-present,  though  invisible 
mystery.  Whether  my  Catholic  acquaintances  had  received 
permission  to  attend  seances  or  not,  was  no  concern  of 
mine,  but  I  took  good  care  to  procure  it  for  myself,  and  I 
record  it  here,  because  rumors  have  constantly  reached  me 
of  people  having  said  behind  my  back  that  I  can  be  "  no 
Catholic  "  because  I  am  a  spiritualist. 

My  director  at  that  time  was  Father  Dalgairn,  of  the 
Oratory  at  Brompton,  and  it  was  to  him  I  took  my  diffi- 
culty. I  was  a  very  constant  press  writer  and  reviewer, 
and  to  be  unable  to  attend  and  report  on  spiritualistic 
meetings  would  have  seriously  militated  against  my  pro- 
fessional interests.  I  represented  this  to  the  Father,  and 
(although  under  protest)  I  received  his  permission  to  pur- 
sue the  research  in  the  cause  of  science.  He  did  more  than 
ease  my  conscience.  He  became  interested  in  what  I  had 
to  tell  him  on  the  subject,  and  we  had  many  conversations 
concerning  it.  He  also  lent  me  from  his  own  library  the 
lives  of  such  saints  as  had  heard  voices  and  seen  visions, 
of  those  in  fact  who  (like  myself)  had  been  the  victims  of 
"Optical  Illusions."  Amongst  these  I  found  the  case  of 
Saint  Anne-Catherine  of  Emmerich,  so  like  my  own,  that  I 
began  to  think  that  I  too  might  turn  out  to  be  a  saint  in 
disguise.  It  has  not  come  to  pass  yet,  but  there  is  no  know- 
ing what  may  happen. 

She  used  to  see  the  spirits  floating  beside  her  as  she 
walked  to  mass,  and  heard  them  asking  her  to  pray  for  them 
as  they  pointed  to  "  les  taches  sur  leurs  robes."  The  musical 
instruments  used  to  play  without  hands  in  her  presence, 
and  voices  from  invisible  throats  sound  in  her  ears,  as  they 
have  done  in  mine.  I  have  only  inserted  this  clause,  how- 
ever, for  the  satisfaction  of  those  Catholic  acquaintances 
with  whom  I  have  sat  at  seances^  and  who  will  probably  be 
the  first  to  exclaim  against  the  publication  of  our  joint  ex- 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  25 

periences.  I  trust  they  will  acknowledge,  after  reading  it, 
that  I  am  not  worse  than  themselves,  though  I  may  be  a 
little  bolder  in  avowing  my  opinions. 

Before  I  began  this  chapter,  I  had  an  argument  with 
that  friend  of  mine  called  Self  (who  has  but  too  often  wor- 
sted me  in  the  Battle  of  Life),  as  to  whether  I  should  say 
anything  about  table-rapping  or  tilting.  The  very  fact  of 
so  common  an  article  of  furniture  as  a  table,  as  an  agent 
of  communication  with  the  unseen  world,  has  excited  so 
much  ridicule  and  opens  so  wide  a  field  for  chicanery,  tliat 
I  thought  it  would  be  wiser  to  drop  the  subject,  and  con- 
fine myself  to  those  phases  of  the  science  or  art,  or  religion, 
or  whatever  the  reader  may  like  to  call  it,  that  can  be 
explained  or  described  on  paper.  The  philosophers  of  the 
nineteenth  century  have  invented  so  many  names  for  the 
cause  that  makes  a  table  turn  round — tilt — or  rap — that  I 
feel  quite  unable  (not  being  a  philosopher)  to  cope  with 
them.  It  is  "  magnetic  force  "  or  "psychic  force," — it  is 
"  unconscious  cerebration  "  or  "  brain-reading  " — and  it  is 
exceedingly  difficult  to  tell  the  outside  world  of  the  private 
reasons  that  convince  individuals  that  the  answers  they 
receive  are  not  emanations  from  their  own  brains.  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  refute  their  reasonings  from  their  own 
standpoint.  I  see  the  difficulties  in  the  way,  so  much  so 
that  I  have  persistently  refused  for  many  years  past  to  sit 
at  the  table  with  strangers,  for  it  is  only  a  lengthened  study 
of  the  matter  that  can  possibly  convince  a  person  of  its 
truth.  I  cannot,  however,  see  the  extreme  folly  myself  of 
holding  communication  (under  the  circumstances)  through 
the  raps  or  tilts  of  a  table,  or  any  other  object.  These  tiny 
indications  of  an  influence  ulterior  to  our  own  are  not 
necessarily  confined  to  a  table.  I  have  received  them 
through  a  cardboard  box,  a  gentleman's  hat,  a  footstool, 
the  strings  of  a  guitar,  and  on  the  back  of  my  chair,  even 
on  the  pillow  of  my  bed.  And  which,  amongst  the  phil- 
osophers I  have  alluded  to,  could  suggest  a  simpler  mode 
of  communication  ? 

I  have  put  the  question  to  clever  men  thus  :  "  Suppose 
yourself,  after  having  been  able  to  write  and  talk  to  me, 
suddenly  deprived  of  the  powers  of  speech  and  touch,  and 
made  invisible,  so  that  we  could  not  understand  each  other 
by  signs,  wliat  better  means  than  by  taps  or  tilts  on  any 
article^  when  the  right  word  or  letter  is  named,  could  you 
think  of  by  which  to  communicate  with  me  ?  " 


26  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

And  my  clever  men  have  never  been  able  to  propose  an 
easier  or  more  sensible  plan,  and  if  anybody  can  suggest 
one,  I  should  very  much  like  to  hear  of  it.  The  following 
incidents  all  took  place  through  the  much-ridiculed  tipping 
of  the  table,  but  managed  to  knock  some  sense  out  of  it 
nevertheless.  On  looking  over  the  note  book  which  I 
faithfully  kept  when  we  first  held  seances  at  home,  I  find 
many  tests  of  identity  which  took  place  through  my  own 
mediumship,  and  which  could  not  possibly  have  been  the 
effects  of  thought-reading.  I  devote  this  chapter  to  their 
relation.  I  hope  it  will  be  observed  with  what  admirable 
caution  I  have  headed  it.  I  have  a  few  drops  of  Scotch 
blood  in  me  by  the  mother's  side,  and  I  think  they  must 
have  aided  me  here.  "  Curious  coincidences."  Why,  not 
the  most  captious  and  unbelieving  critic  of  them  all  can 
find  fault  with  so  modest  and  unpretending  a  title.  Every- 
one believes  in  the  occasional  possibility  of  "  curious  coin- 
cidences." 

It  was  not  until  the  month  of  June,  1873,  that  we  formed 
a  home  circle,  and  commenced  regularly  to  sit  together. 
We  became  so  interested  in  the  pursuit,  that  we  used  to 
sit  every  evening,  and  sometimes  till  three  and  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  greatly  to  our  detriment,  both  mental  and 
physical.  We  seldom  sat  alone,  being  generally  joined  by 
two  or  three  friends  from  outside,  and  the  results  were 
sometimes  very  startling,  as  we  were  a  strong  circle.  The 
memoranda  of  these  sittings,  sometimes  with  one  party  and 
sometimes  with  another,  extend  over  a  period  of  years, 
but  I  shall  restrict  myself  to  relating  a  itw  incidents  that 
were  verified  by  subsequent  events. 

The  means  by  which  we  communicated  with  the  influ- 
ences around  us  was  the  usual  one.  We  sat  round  the 
table  and  laid  our  hands  upon  it,  and  I  (or  anyone  who 
might  be  selected  for  the  purpose)  spelled  over  the  alpha- 
bet, and  raps  or  tilts  occurred  when  the  desired  letter  was 
reached.  This  in  reality  is  not  so  tedious  a  process  as  it 
may  appear,  and  once  used  to  it,  one  may  get  through  a 
vast  amount  of  conversation  in  an  hour  by  this  means.  A 
medium  is  soon  able  to  guess  the  word  intended  to  be 
spelt,  for  there  are  not  so  many  after  all  in  use  in  general 
conversation. 

Some  one  had  come  to  our  table  on  several  occasions, 
giving  the  name  of"  Valerie,"  but  refusing  to  say  any  more, 


THERE   IS  NO  DEATH.  27 

so  we  thought  she  was  an  idle  or  frivolous  spirit,  and  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  driving  her  away.  One  evening,  on 
the  ist  of  July,  however,  our  circle  was  augmented  by 
Mr.  Henry  Stacke,  when  "  Valerie "  was  immediately 
spelled  out,  and  the  following  conversation  ensued.  INIr. 
Stacke  said  to  me,  "  Who  is  tliis  ?  "  and  I  replied  care- 
lessly, "  O  !  she's  a  little  devil  !  She  never  has  anything 
to  say."  The  table  rocked  violently  at  this,  and  the  taps 
spelled  out. 

"  Je  ne  suis  pas  diable." 

"  Hullo  !  Valerie,  so  you  can  talk  now  I  For  whom  do 
you  come  ?  " 

"  Monsieur  Stacke." 

*'  Where  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"  On  the  Continent." 

"  Whereabouts  ?  " 

"  Between  Dijon  and  Ma^on." 

'*  How  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"  In  a  railway  carriage." 

"  What  where  you  doing  there  ?  " 

Here  she  relapsed  into  French,  and  said, 

"  Ce  m'est  impossible  de  dire." 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  Stacke  observed  that  he  had  never 
been  in  a  train  between  Dijon  and  Magon  but  once  in  his 
life,  and  if  the  spirit  was  with  him  then,  she  must  remem- 
ber what  was  the  matter  with  their  fellow-passenger. 

"Mais  oui,  oui — il  etait  fou,"  she  replied,  which  proved 
to  be  perfectly  correct.  Mr.  Stacke  also  remembered  that 
two  ladies  in  the  same  carriage  had  been  terribly  fright- 
ened, and  he  had  assisted  them  to  get  into  another. 
"  Valerie  "  continued,  "  Priez  pour  moi." 

"  Pourquoi,  Valerie  ?  " 

"  Parceque  j'ai  beaucoup  peche." 

There  was  an  influence  who  frequented  our  society  at 
that  time  and  called  himself  "  Charlie." 

He  stated  that  his  full  name  had  been  "  Stephen  Charles 
Bernard  Abbot," — that  he  had  been  a  monk  of  great 
literary  attainments — that  he  had  embraced  the  monastic 
life  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  and  apostatized  for  politi- 
cal reasons  in  that  of  Elizabeth,  and  been  "earth  bound  " 
in  consequence  ever  since. 

"  Charlie  "  asked  us  to  sing  one  night,  and  we  struck  up 
the  very  vulgar  refrain  of  "  Champagne  Charlie,"  to  which 
he  greatly  objected,  asking  for  something  more  serious. 


28  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

I  began,  "  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonnie  Doon." 

"Why,  that's  as  bad  as  the  other,"  said  Cliarlie.  "It 
was  a  ribald  and  obscene  song  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth. 
The  drunken  roysterers  used  to  sing  it  in  the  street  as  they 
rolled  home  at  night." 

"  You  must  be  mistaken,  Charlie  !  It's  a  well-known 
Scotch  air." 

"  It's  no  more  Scotch  than  I  am,"  he  replied.  "  The 
Scotch  say  they  invented  everything.  It's  a  tune  of  the 
time  of  Elizabeth.     Ask  Brinley  Richards." 

Having  the  pleasure  of  the  acquaintance  of  that  gentle- 
man, who  was  the  great  authority  on  the  origin  of  National 
Ballads,  I  applied  to  him  for  the  information,  and  received 
an  answer  to  say  that  "  Charlie  "  was  right,  but  that  Mr. 
Richards  had  not  been  aware  of  the  fact  himself  until  he 
had  searched  some  old  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  the  truth. 

I  was  giving  a  sitting  once  to  an  officer  from  Aldershot, 
a  cousin  of  my  own,  who  was  quite  prepared  to  ridicule 
every  thing  that  took  place.  After  having  teased  me  into 
giving  him  a  seance,  he  began  by  cheating  himself,  and 
then  accused  me  of  cheating  him,  and  altogether  tired  out 
my  patience.  At  last  I  proposed  a  test,  though  with  little 
hope  of  success. 

"  Let  us  ask  John  Powles  to  go  down  to  Aldershot,"  I 
said,  "  and  bring  us  word  what  your  brother  officers  are 
doing." 

"  O,  yes  !  by  Jove  !  Capital  idea  !  Here !  you  fellow 
Powles,  cut  off  to  the  camp,  will  you,  and  go  to  the  barracks 

of  the  84th,  and  let  us  know  what  Major  R is  doing." 

The  message  came  back  in  about  three  minutes.     "  Major 

R has  just   come  in  from  duty,"   spelt  out  Powles. 

"  He  is  sitting  on  the  side  of  his  bed,  changing  his  uniform 
trousers  for  a  pair  of  grey  tweed." 

"  I'm  sure  that's  wrong,"  said  my  cousin,  "  because  the 
men  are  never  called  out  at  this  time  of  the  day." 

It  was  then  four  o'clock,  as  we  had  been  careful  to  ascer- 
tain. My  cousin  returned  to  camp  the  same  evening,  and 
the  next  day  I  received  a  note  from  him  to   say,  "  That 

fellow  Powles  is  a  brick.     It  was  quite  right.     R was 

unexpectedly  ordered  to  turn  out  his  company  yesterday 
afternoon,  and  he  returned  to  barracks  and  changed  his 
things  for  the  grey  tweed  suit  exactly  at  four  o'clock." 


THERE  IS  MO  DEATH.  29 

But  I  have  always  found  my  friend  Powles  (when  he  w/// 
condescend  to  do  anything  for  strangers,  which  is  seldom) 
remarkably  correct  in  detailing  the  thoughts  and  actions  of 
absentees,  sometimes  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe. 

I  went  one  afternoon  to  pay  an  ordinary  social  call  on  a 

lady  named  Mrs.  W .  and    found  her  engaged  in  an 

earnest  conversation  on  Spiritualism  with  a  stout  woman 
and  a  commonplace  man — two  as  material  looking  indi- 
viduals as  ever  I  saw,  and  who  appeared  all  the  more  so 

under  a  sultry  August  sun.     As  soon  as  Mrs.  "W saw 

me,  she  exclaimed,  "  O  !  here  is  Mrs.  Ross-Church.  She 
will  tell  you  all  about  the  spirits.  Do,  Mrs.  Ross-Church, 
sit  down  at  the  table  and  let  us  have  a  seance." 

A  seance  on  a  burning,  blazing  afternoon  in  August,  with 
two  stolid  and  uninteresting,  and  worse  still,  uninterested 

looking  strangers,  who  appeared  to  think  Mrs.  \Y had 

a  "  bee  in  her  bonnet."  I  protested — I  reasoned — I  pleaded 
— all  in  vain.  !My  hostess  continued  to  urge,  and  society 
places  the  guest  at  the  mercy  of  her  hostess.  So,  in  an  evil 
temper,  I  pulled  off  my  gloves,  and  placed  my  hands  indif- 
ferently on  the  table.  The  following  words  were  at  once 
rapped  out — 

"  I  am  Edward  G .     Did  you  ever  pay  Johnson  the 

seventeen  pounds  twelve  you  received  for  my  saddlery?" 

The  gentleman  opposite  to  me  turned  all  sorts  of  colors, 
and  began  to  stammer  out  a  reply,  whilst  his  wife  looked 
very  confused.  I  asked  the  influence,  "  Who  are  you?  " 
It  replied,  "  He  knows  !  His  late  colonel  !  Why  hasn't 
Johnson  received  that  money  ?  "  This  is  what  I  call  an 
"  awkward  "  coincidence,  and  I  have  had  many  such  occur 
through  me — some  that  have  driven  acquaintances  away 
from  the  table,  vowing  vengeance  against  me,  and  racking 
their  brains  to  discover  ivho  had  told  me  of  their  secret 
peccadilloes.  The  gentleman  in  question  (whose  name 
even  I  do  not  remember)  confessed  that  the  identity  and 
main  points  of  the  message  were  true,  but  he  did  not  con- 
fide to  us  whether  Johnson  had  ever  received  that  seven- 
teen pounds  twelve. 

I  had  a  beautiful  English  greyhound,  called  •'  Clytie,"  a 
gift  from  Annie  Thomas  to  me,  and  this  dog  was  given  to 
straying  from  my  house  in  Colville  Road,  Bayswater, 
which  runs  parallel  to  Portobello  Road,  a  rather  objection- 
able quarter,  composed  of  inferior  shops,  one  of  which,  a 


30  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

fried  fish  shop,  was  an  intolerable  nuisance,  and  used  to 
fill  the  air  around  with  its  rich  perfume.  On  one  occasion 
''  Clytie "  stayed  away  from  home  so  much  longer  than 
usual,  that  I  was  afraid  she  was  lost  in  good  earnest,  and 
posted  bills  offering  a  reward  for  her.  "  Charlie  "  came  to 
the  table  that  evening  and  said,  *'  Don't  offer  a  reward  for 
the  dog.     Send  for  her." 

"  Where  am  I  to  send  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  is  tied  up  at  the  fried  fish  shop  in  Portobello  Road. 
Send  the  cook  to  see." 

I  told  the  servant  in  question  that  I  had  heard  the  grey- 
hound was  detained  at  the  fish  shop,  and  sent  her  to 
inquire.  She  returned  with  '*  Clytie."  Her  account  was, 
that  on  making  inquiries,  the  man  in  the  sliop  had  been 
very  insolent  to  her,  and  she  had  raised  her  voice  in  reply  ; 
that  she  had  then  heard  and  recognized  the  sharp,  peculiar 
bark  of  the  greyhound  from  an  upper  storey,  and,  running 
up  before  the  man  could  prevent  her,  she  had  found 
"  Clytie  "  tied  up  to  a  bedstead  with  a  piece  of  rope,  and 
had  called  in  a  policeman  to  enable  her  to  take  the  dog 
away.  I  have  often  heard  the  assertion  that  Spiritualism  is 
of  no  practical  good,  and,  doubtless,  it  was  never  intended 
to  be  so,  but  this  incident  was,  at  least,  an  exception  to 
the  rule. 

When  abroad,  on  one  occasion,  I  was  asked  by  a  Ca- 
tholic Abbe  to  sit  with  him.  He  had  never  seen  any 
manifestations  before,  and  he  did  not  believe  in  them,  but 
he  was  curious  on  the  subject.  I  knew  nothing  of  him 
further  than  that  he  was  a  priest,  and  a  Jesuit,  and  a  great 
friend  of  my  sister's,  at  whose  house  I  was  staying.  He 
spoke  English,  and  the  conversation  was  carried  on  in  that 
language.  He  had  told  me  beforehand  that  if  he  could 
receive  a  perfectly  private  test,  that  he  should  never  doubt 
the  truth  of  the  manifestations  again.  I  left  him,  therefore, 
to  conduct  the  investigation  entirely  by  himself,  I  acting 
only  as  the  medium  between  him  and  the  infiuence.  As 
soon  as  the  table  moved  he  put  his  question  direct,  without 
asking  who  was  there  to  answer  it. 

"  Where  is  my  chasuble  ?  " 

Now  a  priest's  chasuble,  /  should  have  said,  must  be 
either  hanging  in  the  sacristy  or  packed  away  at  home,  or 
been  sent  away  to  be  altered  or  mended.  But  the  answer 
was  wide  of  all  my  speculations. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  31 

"  At  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea." 

The  priest  started,  but  continued — 

Who  put  it  there?  " 

"  Elias  Dodo." 

"What  was  his  object  in  doing  so?" 

"  He  found  the  parcel  a  burthen,  and  did  not  expect 
any  reward  for  delivering  it." 

The  Abb6  really  looked  as  if  he  had  encountered  the 
devil.  He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead,  and 
put  one  more  question. 

"  Of  what  was  my  chasuble  made  ?  " 

"  Your  sister's  wedding  dress." 

The  priest  then  explained  to  me  that  his  sister  had  made 
him  a  chasuble  out  of  her  wedding  dress — one  of  the  forms 
of  returning  thanks  in  the  Church,  but  that  after  a  while  it 
became  old  fashioned,  and  the  Bishop,  going  his  rounds, 
ordered  him  to  get  another.  He  did  not  like  to  throw 
away  his  sister's  gift,  so  he  decided  to  send  the  old  chasu- 
ble to  a  priest  in  India,  where  they  are  very  poor,  and  not 
so  particular  as  to  fashion.  He  confided  the  packet  to  a 
man  called  Elias  Dodo,  a  sufficiently  singular  name,  but 
neither  he  nor  the  priest  he  sent  it  to  had  ever  heard  any- 
thing more  of  the  chasuble,  or  the  man  who  promised  to 
deliver  it. 

A  young  artist  of  the  name  of  Courtney  was  a  visitor  at 
my  house.  He  asked  me  to  sit  with  him  alone,  when  the 
table  began  rapping  out  a  number  of  consonants — a  farrago 
of  nonsense,  it  appeared  to  me,  and  I  stopped  and  said  so. 
But  Mr.  Courtney,  who  appeared  much  interested,  begged 
me  to  proceed.  When  the  communication  was  finished,  he 
said  to  me,  "  This  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  I  have  ever 
heard.  My  father  has  been  at  the  table  talking  to  me  in 
Welsh.  He  has  told  me  our  family  motto,  and  all  about 
my  birth-place  and  relations  in  Wales."  I  said,  "  I  never 
heard  you  were  a  Welshman."  "  Yes  !  I  am,''  he  replied, 
"  my  real  name  is  Powell.  I  have  only  adopted  the  name 
of  "Courtney  for  professional  purposes." 

This  was  all  news  to  me,  but  had  it  not  been,  I  cannot 
speak  Welsh. 

I  could  multiply  such  cases  by  the  dozen,  but  that  I  fear 
to  tire  my  readers,  added  to  which  the  majority  of  thera 
were  of  so  strictly  private  a  nature  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  put  them  into  print.     This  is  perhaps  the  greatest 


32  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

drawback  that  one  encounters  in  trying  to  prove  the  truth 
of  Spiritualism.  The  best  tests  we  receive  are  when  the 
very  secrets  of  our  hearts,  which  we  have  not  confided  to 
our  nearest  friends,  are  revealed  to  us.  I  could  relate  (had 
I  the  permission  of  the  persons  most  interested)  the  parti- 
culars of  a  well-known  law  suit,  in  which  the  requisite 
evidence,  and  names  and  addresses  of  witnesses,  were  all 
given  though  my  mediumship,  and  were  the  cause  of  the 
case  being  gained  by  the  side  that  came  to  me  for  "  infor- 
mation." Some  of  the  coincidences  I  have  related  in  this 
chapter  might,  however,  be  ascribed  by  the  sceptical  to 
the  mysterious  and  unknown  power  of  brain  reading, 
whatever  that  may  be,  and  however  it  may  come,  apart 
from  mediumship,  but  how  is  one  to  account  for  the  facts 
I  shall  tell  you  in  my  next  chapter. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  33 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EMBODIED    SPIRITS. 

I  WAS  having  a  sitting  one  day  in  my  own  house  with  a 
lady  friend,  named  Miss  Clark,  when  a  female  spirit  came 
to  the  table  and  spelt  out  the  name  "  Tiny." 

"Who  are  you?"  I  asked,  "and  for  whom  do  you 
come  ?  " 

"I  am  a  friend  of  Major  M "    (mentioning  the  full 

name,  "  and  I  want  your  help." 

"  Are  you  any  relation  to  Major  I\I ?  " 

"  I  am  the  motiier  of  his  child." 

"  What  do  you  wish  me  to  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Tell  him  he  must  go  down  to  Portsmouth  and  look 
after  my  daughter.  He  has  not  seen  her  for  years.  The 
old  woman  is  dead,  and  the  man  is  a  drunkard.  She  is 
falling  into  evil  courses.     He  must  save  her  from  them." 

"  What  is  your  real  name  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  give  it.  There  is  no  need.  He  always  called 
me  '  Tiny.' " 

"  How  old  is  your  daughter. 

"  Nineteen  !  Her  name  is  Emily  !  I  want  her  to  be 
married.  Tell  him  to  promise  her  a  wedding  trousseau.  It 
may  induce  her  to  marry." 

The  influence  divulged  a  great  deal  more  on  the  subject 
which  I  cannot  write  down  here.  It  was  an  account  of  one 
of  those  cruel  acts  of  seduction  by  which  a  young  girl  had 
been  led  into  trouble  in  order  to  gratify  a  man's  selfish 
lust,  and  astonished  both  Miss  Clark  and  myself,  who  had 
never  heard  of  such  a  person  as  "  Tiny  "  before.      It  was 

too  delicate  a  matter  for  me  to  broach  to  Major  M 

(who  was  a  married  man,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  mine), 
but  the  spirit  came  so  many  times  and  implored  me  so 
earnestly  to  save  her  daughter,  that  at  last  I  ventured  to 
repeat  tlae  communication  to  him.  He  was  rather  taken 
aback,  but  confessed  it  was  true,  and  that  the  child,  being 
left  to  his  care,  had  been  given  over  to  the  charge  of  some 

3 


34  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

common  people  at  Portsmouth,  and  he  had  not  enquired 
after  it  for  some  time  past.  Neither  had  he  ever  lieard  of 
the  death  of  the  mother,  who  had  subsequently  married, 
and  had  a  family.  He  instituted  inquiries,  however,  at 
once,  and  found  the  statement  to  be  quite  true,  and  that 
the  girl  Emily,  being  left  with  no  better  protection  than 
that  of  the  drunken  old  man,  had  actually  gone  astray, 
and  not  long  after  she  was  had  up  at  the  police  court  for 
stabbing  a  soldier  in  a  public-house — a  fit  ending  for  the 
unfortunate  offspring  of  a  man's  selfish  passions.  But  the 
strangest  part  of  the  story  to  the  uninitiated  will  lie  in  the 
fact  that  the  woman  whose  spirit  thus  manifested  itself  to 
two  utter  strangers,  who  knew  neither  her  history  nor  her 
name,  was  at  the  time  alive,  and  living  with  her  husband 

and  family,  as  Major  M took  pains  to  ascertain. 

And  now  I  have  something  to  say  on  ihe  subject  of 
communicating  with  the  spirits  of  persons  still  in  the  flesh. 
This  will  doubtless  appear  the  most  incompreliensiblc  and 
fanatical  assertion  of  all,  that  we  wear  our  earthly  garb  so 
loosely,  that  the  spirits  of  people  still  living  in  this  world 
can  leave  the  body  and  manifest  themselves  either  visibly 
or  orally  to  others  in  their  normal  condition.  And  yet  it 
is  a  fact  that  spirits  have  so  visited  myself  (as  in  the  case 
I  have  just  recorded),  and  given  me  information  of  which 
I  had  not  the  slightest  previous  idea.  The  matter  has  been 
explained  to  me  after  this  fashion — that  it  is  not  really  the 
spirit  of  the  living  person  who  communicates,  but  the 
spirit,  or  "  control,"  that  is  nearest  to  him  :  in  effect  what 
the  Church  calls  his  "  guardian  angel,"  and  that  this 
guardian  angel,  who  knows  his  inmost  thoughts  and  de- 
sires better  even  than  he  knows  them  himself,  is  equally 
capable  of  speaking  in  his  name.  This  idea  of  the  matter 
may  shift  the  marvel  from  one  pair  of  shoulders  to  another, 
but  it  does  not  do  away  with  it.  If  I  can  receive  informa- 
tion of  events  before  they  occur  (as  I  will  prove  that  I 
have),  I  present  a  nut  for  the  consideration  of  the  public 
jaw,  which  even  the  scientists  will  find  difiicult  to  crack. 
It  was  at  one  time  my  annual  custom  to  take  my  children 
to  the  sea-side,  and  one  summer,  being  anxious  to  ascer- 
tain how  far  the  table  could  be  made  to  net  without  the 
aid  of  "  unconscious  cerebration,"  I  arranged  with  my 
friends,  Mr.  Helmore  and  Mrs.  Colnaghi,  who  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  sitting  with  us  at  home,   that  we  should  con- 


THERE    IS  XO   DEATH.  35 

tinue  to  sit  at  the  sea-side  on  Tuesday  evenings  as  there- 
tofore, and  they  should  sit  in  London  on  the  Thursdays, 
when  I  would  try  to  send  them  messages  through  "  Char- 
lie," the  spirit  I  have  already  mentioned  as  being  constantly 
with  us. 

The  first  Tuesday  my  message  was,  "  Ask  them  how 
they  are  getting  on  without  us,"  which  was*  faithfully  de- 
livered at  their  table  on  the  following  Thursday.  The 
return  message  from  them  which  "Charlie"  spelled  out 
for  us  on  the  second  Tuesday,  was  :  "  Tell  her  London  is 
a  desert  without  her,"  to  which  I  emphatically,  if  not 
elegantly,  answered,  "  Fiddle-de-dee  ! "  A  {t\v  days  after- 
wards I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Helmore,  in  which  he 
said,  "  I  am  afraid  '  Charlie  '  is  already  tired  of  playing  at 
postman>  for  to  all  our  questions  about  you  last  Thursday, 
he  would  only  rap  out,  '  Fiddle-de-dee.'  " 

The  circumstance  to  which  this  little  episode  is  but  an 
introduction  happened  a  few  days  later.  Mr.  Colnaghi  and 
Mr.  Helmore,  sitting  together  as  Msual  on  Thursday  even- 
ing, were  discussing  the  possibility  of  summoning  the 
spirits'' of  living  persons  to  the  table,  when  "Charlie" 
rapped  three  times  to  intimate  they  could. 

"  Will  you  fetch  some  one  for  us,  Charlie  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Whom  will  you  bring?  " 

'•'  Mrs.  Ross-Church." 

"  How  long  will  it  take  you  to  do  so  ">" 

"  Fifteen  minutes." 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  the  night  when  I  must  have 
been  fast  asleep,  and  the  two  young  men  told  me  after- 
wards that  they  waited  the  results  of  their  experiment 
with  much  trepidation,  wondering  (I  suppose)  if  I  should 
be  conveyed  bodily  into  their  presence  and  box  their  ears 
well  for  their  impertinence.  Exactly  fifteen  minutes  after- 
wards, however,  the  table  was  violently  shaken  and  the 
words  were  spelt  out.  "  I  am  Mrs,  Ross-Church.  How 
dared  you  send  for  me?"  They  were  very  penitent  (or 
they  said  they  were),  but  they  described  my  manner  as 
most  arbitrary,  and  said  I  went  on  repeating,  "  Let  me  go 
back  !  Let  me  go  back  !  There  is  a  great  danger  hanging 
over  my  children  1  I  must  go  back  to  my  children  !  " 
(And  here  I  would  xt\wx\\i  par paretithese,  and  in  contra- 
diction of  the  guardian  angel  theory,  that  I  have  always 


36  THERE  IS  KO  DEATH. 

found  that  wliilst  the  spirits  of  the  departed  come  and  go 
as  they  feel  inchned,  the  spirits  of  the  living  invariably 
beg  to  be  sent  back  again  or  permitted  to  go,  as  if  they 
were  chained  by  the  will  of  the  medium.)  On  this  occasion 
I  was  so  positive  that  I  made  a  great  impression  on  my 
two  friends,  and  the  next  day  Mr.  Helmore  sent  me  a 
cautiously  wowled  letter  to  find  out  if  all  was  well  with  us 
at  Charmouth,  but  without  disclosing  the  reason  for  his 
curiosity. 

Tht  facts  are,  that  on  the  morning  of  Friday,  the  day 
after  the  seance  in  London,  my  seven  children  and  two 
nurses  were  all  sitting  in  a  small  lodging-house  room,  when 
my  brother-in-law,  Dr.  Henry  Norris,  came  in  from  ball 
practice  with  the  volunteers,  and  whilst  exhibiting  his  rifle 
to  my  son,  accidentally  discharged  it  in  the  midst  of  them, 
the  ball  passing  through  the  wall  within  two  inches  of  my 
eldest  daughter's  head.  When  I  wrote  the  account  of  this 
to  Mr.  Helmore,  he  told  me  of  my  visit  to  London  and 
the  words  I  had  spelt  OHt  on  the  occasion.  But  how  did 
I  know  of  the  occurrence  the  night  before  it  took  place  ? 
And  if  I — being  asleep  and  unconscious — did  not  know  of 
it,  "  Charlie  "  must  have  done  so. 

My  serial  visits  to  my  friends,  however,  whilst  my  body 
was  in  quite  another  place,  have  been  made  still  more  pal- 
pable than  this.  Once,  when  living  in  the  Regent's  Park, 
I  passed  a  very  terrible  and  painful  night.  Grief  and  fear 
kept  me  awake  most  of  the  time,  and  the  morning  found 
me  exhausted  with  the  emotion  I  had  gone  through.  About 
eleven  o'clock  there  walked  in,  to  my  surprise,  Mrs.  Fitz- 
gerald (better  known  as  a  medium  under  her  maiden  name 
of  Bessie  Williams),  who  lived  in  the  Goldhawk  Road,  Shep- 
herd's Bush.  "  I  couldn't  help  coming  to  you,"  she  com- 
menced, "  for  I  shall  not  be  easy  until  I  know  how  you 
are  after  the  terrible  scene  you  have  passed  through."  I 
stared  at  her.  "Whom  have  you  seen?  "  I  asked.  "  Who 
has  told  you  of  it  ?  "  '^  Yourself,"  she  replied.  "  I  was 
waked  up  this  morning  between  two  and  three  o'clock  by 
the  sound  of  sobbing  and  crying  in  the  front  garden.  I 
got  out  of  bed  and  opened  the  window,  and  then  I  saw 
you  standing  on  the  grass  plat  in  your  night-dress  and  cry- 
ing bitterly.  I  asked  you  what  was  the  matter,  and  you 
told  me  so  and  so,  and  so  and  so."  And  here  followed  a 
detailed  account  of  all  that  had   happened  in   my  own 


THERE    IS  NO   DEATH.  37 

house  on  tlie  other  side  of  London,  with  the  very  words 
that  had  been  used,  and  every  action  that  had  happened. 
I  had  seen  no  one  and  spoken  to  no  one  between  tlie  oc- 
currence and  the  time  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  called  upon  me.  If 
her  story  was  untrue,  lulio  had  so  minutely  informed  her 
of  a  circumstance  which  it  was  to  the  interest  of  all  con- 
cerned to  keep  to  themselves  ? 

When  I  first  joined  Mr.  d'Oyley  Carte's  "  Patience " 
Company  in  the  provinces,  to  play  the  part  of  "  Lady 
Jane,"  I  understood  I  was  to  have  four  days'  rehearsal. 
However,  the  lady  whom  I  succeeded,  hearing  I  had 
arrived,  took  herself  off,  and  the  manager  requested  I 
would  appear  the  same  night  of  my  arrival.  This  was 
rather  an  ordeal  to  an  artist  who  had  never  sung  on  the 
operatic  stage  before,  and  who  was  not  note  perfect.  How- 
ever, as  a  matter  of  obligation,  I  consented  to  do  my  best, 
but  I  was  very  nervous.  At  the  end  of  the  second  act, 
during  the  balloting  scene.  Lady  Jane  has  to  appear  sud- 
denly on  the  stage,  with  the  word  "  Away  !  "  I  forget  at 
this  distance  of  time  whether  I  made  a  mistake  in  pitching 
the  note  a  third  higher  or  lower.  I  know  it  was  not  out  of 
harmony,  but  it  was  sufficiently  wrong  to  send  the  chorus 
astray,  and  bring  my  heart  up  into  my  mouth.  It  never 
occurred  after  the  first  night,  but  I  never  stood  at  the 
wings  again  waiting  for  that  particular  entrance  but  I 
"  girded  my  loins  together,"  as  it  were,  with  a  kind  of 
dread  lest  I  should  repeat  the  error.  After  a  while  I  per- 
ceived a  good  deal  of  whispering  about  me  in  the  company, 
and  I  asked  poor  Federici  (who  played  the  colonel)  the 
reason  of  it,  particularly  as  he  had  previously  asked  me 
to  stand  as  far  from  him  as  I  could  upon  the  stage, 
as  I  magnetized  him  so  strongly  that  he  couldn't  sing  if  I 
was  near  him.  "  Well !  do  you  know,"  he  said  to  ine  in 
answer,  "  that  a  very  strange  thing  occurs  occasionally  with 
reference  to  you.  Miss  Marryat.  While  you  are  standing 
on  jhe  stage  sometimes,  you  appear  seated  in  the  stalls. 
Several  people  have  seen  it  beside  myself.  I  assure  you 
it  is  true." 

"  But  when  do  you  see  me  ?  "'  I  enquired  with  amaze- 
ment. 

"It's  always  at  the  same  time,"  he  answered,  "  just 
before  you  run  on  at  the  end  of  the  second  act.  Of  course 
it's  only  an  appearance,  but  it's  very  queer."     I  told  him 


38  THERE   IS   NO    DEATH. 

then  of  the  strange  feeHngs  of  distrust  of  myself  I  experi- 
enced each  night  at  tliat  very  moment,  when  my  spirit  seems 
to  have  preceded  myself  upon  the  stage. 

I  had  a  friend  many  years  ago  in  India,  who  (like  many 
other  friends)  had  permitted  time  and  separation  to  come 
between  us,  and  alienate  us  from  each  other.  I  had  not 
seen  him  nor  heard  from  him  for  eleven  years,  and  to  all 
appearance  our  fiiendship  was  at  an  end.  One  evening 
the  medium  I  have  alluded  to  above,  Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  who 
was  a  personal  friend  of  mine,  was  at  my  house,  and  after 
dinner  she  put  her  feet  up  on  the  sofa — a  very  unusual 
thing  for  her — and  closed  her  eyes.  She  and  I  were  quite 
alone  in  the  drawing-room,  and  after  a  little  while  I 
whispered  softly,  "  Bessie,  are  you  asleep  ?  "  The  answer 
came  from  her  control  "  Dewdrop,"  a  wonderfully  sharp 
Red  Indian  girl.  "  No  !  she's  in  a  trance.  There's  some- 
body coming  to  speak  to  you  !  I  don't  want  him  to  come. 
He'll  make  the  medium  ill.  But  it's  no  use.  I  see  him 
creeping  round  the  corner  now." 

"  But  why  should  it  make  her  ill  ?  "  I  argued,  believing 
we  were  about  to  hold  an  ordinary  sea?ice. 

"  Because  he's  a  live  one,  he  hasn't  passed  over  yet," 
replied  Dewdrop,  "  and  live  ones  always  make  my  medium 
feel  sick.  But  it's  no  use.  I  can't  keep  him  out.  He 
may  as  well  come.     But  don't  let  him  stay  long." 

"  Who  is  he,  Dewdrop  ?  "  I  demanded  curiously. 

"/don't  know  !  Guess j^//  will  !  He's  an  old  friend 
of  yours,  and  his  name  is  George."  Whereupon  Bessie 
Fitzgerald  laid  back  on  the  sofa  cushions,  and  Dewdrop 
ceased  to  speak.  It  was  some  time  before  there  was  any 
result.  The  medium  tossed  and  turned,  and  wiped  the 
perspiration  from  her  forehead,  and  pushed  back  her  hair, 
and  beat  up  the  cushions  and  threw  herself  back  upon 
them  with  a  sigh,  and  went  through  all  the  pantomime  of  a 
man  trying  to  court  sleep  in  a  hot  climate.  Presently  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  glanced  languidly  around  her.  JHer 
unmistakable  actions  and  the  name  "George  "  (which  was 
that  of  my  friend,  then  resident  in  India)  had  naturally 
aroused  my  suspicions  as  to  the  identity  of  the  influence, 
and  when  Bessie  opened  her  eyes,  I  asked  softly,  "  George, 
is  that  you  ?  "  At  the  sound  of  my  voice  the  medium  started 
violently  and  sprung  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  then,  look- 
ing all  round  the  room  in  a  scared  manner,  she  exclaimed, 


THERE    IS   NO    DEATH.  39 

"  Where  am  I  ?  Who  brought  me  here  ?  "  Then  catching 
sight  of  me,  she  continued,  "  Mrs.  Ross-Church  1 — Flor- 
ence !  Is  \\\\'i  yonr  room  ?  O  !  let  me  go  !  Do  let  me 
go  !  " 

This  was  not  complimentary,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  from 
a  friend  whom  I  had  not  met  for  eleven  years,  but  now  that 
I  had  got  him  I  had  no  intention  of  letting  him  go,  until  I 
was  convinced  of  his  identity.  But  the  terror  of  the  spirit 
at  finding  himself  in  a  strange  place  seemed  so  real  and 
uncontrollable  that  I  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  persuad- 
ing him  to  stay,  even  for  a  few  minutes.  He  kept  on 
reiterating,  "  Wiio  brought  me  here  ?  I  did  not  wish  to 
come.  Do  let  me  go  back.  I  am  so  very  cold  "  (shiver- 
ing convulsively),  "so  very,  very  cold." 

"Answer  me  a  few  questions,"  I  said,  "and  then  you 
shall  go.     Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  are  Florence." 

"  And  what  is  your  name  ?  "  He  gave  it  at  full  length. 
"  And  do  you  care  for  me  still  ?  " 

"  Very  much.     But  let  me  go." 

"  In  a  minute.     Why  do  you  never  write  to  me  ?  " 

"  There  are  reasons.  I  am  not  a-free  agent.  It  is  better 
as  it  is." 

"  I  don't  think  so.  I  miss  your  letters  very  mudi.  Shall 
I  ever  hear  from  you  again  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  " 

"  And  see  you  ?  " 

"Yes  ;  but  ftot  yet.  Let  me  go  now.  I  don't  wish  to 
stay.     You  are  making  me  very  unhappy." 

If  I  could  describe  the  fearful  manner  in  which,  during 
this  conversation,  he  glanced  every  moment  at  the  door, 
like  a  man  yvho  is  afraid  of  being  discovered  in  a  guilty 
action,  it  would  carry  with  it  to  my  readers,  as  it  did  to  me, 
the  most  convincing  proof  that  the  medium's  body  was 
animated  by  a  totally  different  influence  from  her  own.  I 
kept  the  spirit  under  control  until  I  had  fully  convinced 
myself  that  he  knew  everything  about  our  former  friend- 
ship and  his  own  present  surroundings  ;  and  then  I  let  him 
fly  back  to  India,  and  wondered  if  he  would  wake  up  the 
next  morning  and  imagine  he  had  been  laboring  under 
nightmare. 

These  experiences  with  the  spirits  of  the  living  are  cer- 
tainly amongst  the  most  curious  I  have  obtained.  On  more 


40  THERE    IS   NO   DEATH. 

than  one  occasion,  when  I  have  been  unable  to  extract  the 
truth  of  a  matter  from  my  acquaintances  I  have  sat  down 
alone,  as  soon  as  I  believed  them  to  be  asleep,  and  sum- 
moned their  spirits  to  the  table  and  compelled  them  to 
speak  out.  Little  have  they  imagined  sometimes  how  I 
came  to  know  things  which  they  had  scrupulously  tried  to 
hide  from  me.  I  have  heard  that  the  power  to  summons 
the  spirits  of  the  living  is  not  given  to  all  media,  but  I 
have  always  possessed  it.  I  can  do  so  when  they  are  awake 
as  well  as  when  they  are  asleep,  though  it  is  not  so  easy. 
A  gentleman  once  dared  me  to  do  this  with  him,  and  I 
only  conceal  his  name  because  I  made  him  look  ridiculous. 
I  waited  till  I  knew  he  was  engaged  at  a  dinner-party,  and 
then  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  sat  down  and 
summoned  him  to  come  to  me.  It  was  some  little  time 
before  he  obeyed,  and  when  he  did  come,  he  was  emin- 
ently sulky.  I  got  a  piece  of  paper  and  pencil,  and  from 
his  dictation  I  wrote  down  the  number  and  names  of  the 
guests  at  the  dinner-table,  also  the  dishes  of  which  he  had 
partaken,  and  then  in  pity  for  his  earnest  entreaties  I  let 
him  go  again.  "  You  are  making  me  ridiculous,"  he  said, 
"everyone  is  laughing  at  me." 

"  But  why  ?     What  are  you  doing  ?  "  I  urged. 

"  I  am  standing  by  the  mantel-piece,  and  I  have  fallen 
fast  asleep,"  he  answered.  The  next  morning  he  came 
pell-mell  into  my  presence, 

"  What  did  you  do  to  me  last  night  ?  "  he  demanded. 
"  I  was  at  the  Watts  Philips,  and  after  dinner  I  went  fast 
asleep  with  my  head  upon  my  hand,  standing  by  the 
mantel-piece,  and  they  were  all  trying  to  wake  me  and 
couldn't.  Have  you  been  playing  any  of  your  tricks  upon 
me?" 

"  I  only  made  you  do  what  you  declared  I  couldn't,"  I 
replied.  "  How  did  you  like  the  white  soup  and  the  tur- 
bot,  and  the  sweetbreads,  etc.,  etc." 

He  opened  his  eyes  at  my  nefariously  obtained  know- 
ledge, and  still  more  when  I  produced  the  paper  written 
from  his  dictation.  This  is  not  a  usual  custom  of  mine — 
it  would  not  be  interesting  enough  to  pursue  as  a  custom — 
but  I  am  a  dangerous  person  to  dare  to  do  anything. 

The  old  friend  whose  spirit  visited  me  through  Mrs. 
Fitzgerald  had  lost  a  sister  to  whom  he  was  very  tenderly 
attached  before  he  made  my  acquaintance,  and  I  knew  little 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  41 

of  her  beyond  her  name.  One  evening,  not  many  months 
after  the  interview  with  him  which  I  have  recorded,  a  spirit 
came  to  me,  giving  the  name  of  my  friend's  sister,  with  this 
message,  "  My  brother  has  returned  to  England,  and 
would  like  to  know  your  address.  Write  to  him  to  the 
Club,  Leamington,  and  tell  him  where  to  find  you."  I 
replied,  "  Your  brother  has  not  written  tome,  nor  inquired 
after  me  for  the  last  eleven  years.  He  has  lost  all  interest 
in  me,  and  I  cannot  be  the  first  to  write  to  him,  unless  I 
am  sure  that  he  wishes  it." 

"  He  has  not  lost  all  interest  in  you,"  said  the  spirit ; 
"  he  thinks  of  you  constantly,  and  I  hear  him  pray  for  you. 
He  wishes  to  liear  from  you." 

"  That  may  be  true,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  cannot  accept  it 
on  your  authority.  If  your  brother  really  wishes  to  renew 
our  acquaintance,  let  him  write  and  tell  me  so." 

"  He  does  not  "know  your  address,  and  I  cannot  get  near 
enough  to  him  to  influence  him." 

"  Then  things  must  remain  as  they  are,"  I  replied  some- 
what testily.  "  I  am  a  public  person.  He  can  find  out  my 
address,  if  he  chooses  to  do  so." 

The  spirit  seemed  to  reflect  for  a  moment  ;  then  she 
rapped  out,  "  Wait,  and  I  will  fetch  my  brother.  He  shall 
come  here  himself  and  tell  you  what  he  thinks  about  it." 
In  a  short  time  there  was  a  different  movement  of  the  table, 
and  the  name  of  my  old  friend  was  given.  After  we  had 
exchanged  a  few  words,  and  I  had  told  him  I  required  a 
test  of  his  identity,  he  asked  me  to  get  a  pencil  and  paper, 
and  write  from  his  dictation.  I  did  as  he  requested,  and  he 
dictated  the  following  sentence,  "  Long  time,  indeed,  has 
passed  since  the  days  you  call  to  mind,  but  time,  however 
long,  does  not  efface  the  past.  It  has  never  made  me  cease 
to  think  of  and  pray  for  you  as  I  felt  you,  too,  did  think  of 
and  pray  for  me.  Write  to  the  address  my  sister  gave  you. 
I  want  to  hear  from  you." 

Notwithstanding  the  perspicuity  and  apparent  genuine- 
ness of  this  message,  it  was  some  time  before  I  could  make 
up  my  mind  to  follow  the  directions  it  gave  me.  My  pride 
stood  in  the  way  to  prevent  it.  Ten  days  afterwards,  how- 
ever, having  received  several  more  visits  from  the  sister,  I 
did  as  she  desired  me,  and  sent  a  note  to  her  brother  to 
the  Leamington  Club.  The  answer  came  by  return  of 
post,  and  contained  (amongst  others)  the  identical  words 


42  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

he  had  told  me  to  write  down.  Will  Mr.  Stuart  Cumber- 
land, or  any  other  clever  man,  explain  to  me  what  or  who 
it  was  that  had  visited  me  ten  days  beforehand,  and  dic- 
tated words  which  could  hardly  have  been  in  my  corres- 
pondent's brain  before  he  received  my  letter?  I  am  ready 
to  accept  any  reasonable  explanation  of  the  matter  from 
the  scientists,  philosophers,  chemists,  or  arguists  of  the 
world,  and  I  am  open  to  conviction,  when  my  sense  con- 
vinces me,  that  their  reasoning  is  true.  But  my  present 
belief  is,  that  not  a  single  man  or  woman  will  be  found  able 
to  account  on  any  ordinary  grounds  for  such  an  extraor- 
dinary instance  of  "  unconscious  cerebration." 

Being  subject  to  "optical  illusions,"  I  naturally  had 
several  with  regard  to  my  spirit  child,  "  Florence,"  and  she 
always  came  to  me  clothed  in  a  white  dress.  One  night, 
however,  when  I  was  living  alone  in  the  Regent's  Park,  I 
saw  "  Florence  "  (as  I  imagined)  standing  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  dressed  in  a  green  riding  habit  slashed  wiih 
orange  color,  with  a  cavalier  hat  of  grey  felt  on  her  head, 
ornamented  with  a  long  green  feather  and  a  gold  buckle. 
She  stood  with  her  back  to  me,  but  I  could  see  her  profile 
as  she  looked  over  her  shoulder,  with  the  skirt  of  her  habit 
in  her  hand.  This  being  a  most  extraordinary  attire  in 
which  to  see  "  Florence,"  I  feJt  curious  on  the  subject,  and 
the  next  day  I  questioned  her  about  it. 

"  Florence  ! '"  I  said,  "  why  did  you  come  to  me  last  night 
in  a  green  riding  habit  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  come  to  you  last  night,  mother  1  It  was  my 
sister  P^va." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  is  anything  wrong 
with  her  ?  " 

"  No  1  she  is  quite  well." 

"  How  could  she  come  to  me  then  ?  " 

"She  did  not  come  in  reality,  but  her  thoughts  were 
much  with  you,  and  so  you  saw  her  spirit  clairvoyantly.'' 

My  daughter  Eva,  who  was  on  the  stage,  was  at  that 
time  fulfilling  a  stock  engagement  in  Glasgow,  and  very 
much  employed.  I  had  not  heard  from  her  for  a  fortnight, 
which  was  a  most  unusual  occurrence,  and  I  had  begun  to 
feel  uneasy.  This  vision  made  me  more  so,  and  I  wrote  at 
once  to  ask  her  if  all  was  as  it  should  be.  Her  answer 
was  to  this  effect :  "  I  am  so  sorry  I  have  had  no  time  to 
write   to  you  this  week,  but  I  have  been  so  awfully  busy. 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  43 

We  play  '  The  Colleen  Bawn  '  here  next  week,  and  I  have 
had  to  get  my  dress  ready  for  '  Anne  Chute.'  It's  so  effect- 
ive. I  wish  you  could  see  it.  A  green  habil  slashed  with 
orange,  and  a  grey  felt  hat  with  a  long  green  feather  and 
a  big  gold  buckle.  I  tried  it  on  the  other  night,  and  it  looked 
so  nice,  etc.,  etc." 

Well,  my  darling  girl  had  had  her  wish,  and  I  had  seen 
it. 


44  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OPTICAL   ILLUSIONS. 

As  I  have  alluded  to  what  my  family  termed  my  "  optical 
illusions,"  I  think  it  as  well  to  describe  a  few  of  them,  which 
appeared  by  the  context  to  be  something  more  than  a  mere 
temporary  disturbance  of  my  visual  organs.  I  will  pass 
over  such  as  might  be  traced,  truly  or  otherwise,  to  physi- 
cal causes,  and  confine  myself  to  those  which  were  subse- 
quently proved  to  be  the  reflection  of  sometliing  that, 
unknown  to  me,  had  gone  before.  In  1875  I  was  much 
engaged  in  giving  dramatic  readings  in  different  parts  of 
the  country,  and  I  visited  Dublin  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  for  that  purpose,  and  put  up  at  the  largest  and  best- 
frequented  hotel  there.  Through  the  hospitality  of  the 
residents  and  the  duties  of  my  professional  business,  I  was 
engaged  botli  day  and  night,  and  when  I  did  get  to  bed, 
I  had  every  disposition  to  sleep,  as  the  saying  is,  like  a 
"  top."  But  there  was  something  in  the  hotel  that  would 
not  let  me  do  so.  I  had  a  charming  bedroom,  cheerful, 
briglit  and  pretty,  and  replete  with  every  comfort,  and  I 
would  retire  to  rest  "dead  beat,"  and  fall  off  to  sleep  at 
once,  to  be  waked  perhaps  half-a-dozen  times  a  night  by 
that  inexplicable  something  (or  nothing)  that  rouses  me 
whenever  I  am  about  to  enjoy  an  "  optical  illusion,"  and  to 
see  figures,  sometimes  one,  sometimes  two  or  three,  some- 
times a  whole  group  standing  by  my  bedside  and  gazing 
at  me  with  looks  of  the  greatest  astonishment,  as  much  as 
to  ask  what  right  I  had  to  be  there.  But  the  most  remark- 
able part  of  the  matter  to  me  was,  that  all  the  figures  were 
those  of  men,  and  military  men,  to  whom  I  was  too  well 
accustomed  to  be  able  to  mistake.  Some  were  officers  and 
others  soldiers,  some  were  in  uniform,  others  in  undress, 
but  they  all  belonged  to  the  army,  and  they  all  seemed  to 
labor  under  tlie  same  feeling  of  intense  surprise  at  seeing 
me  in  the  hotel.  These  apparitions  were  so  life-like  and 
appeared  so  frequently,   that  I  grew  quite  uncomfortable 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  45 

about  them,  for  however  much  one  may  be  used  to  see 
''optical  illusions,"  it  is  not  pleasant  to  fancy  there  are 
about  twenty  strangers  gazing  at  one  every  night  as  one 
lies  asleep.  Spiritualism  is,  or  was,  a  tabooed  subject  in 
Dublin,  and  I  had  been  expressly  cautioned  not  to  mention 
it  before  my  new  acquaintances.  However,  I  could  not 
keep  entire  silence  on  this  subject,  and  dining  en  famille 
one  day,  with  a  hospitable  family  of  the  name  of  Robinson, 
I  related  to  them  my  nightly  experiences  at  the  hotel. 
Father,  mother,  and  son  exclaimed  simultaneously.  "  Good 
gracious,"  they  said,  ''  don't  you  know  that  that  hotel  was 
built  on  the  site  of  the  old  barracks  ?  The  house  imme- 
diately behind  it,  which  formed  part  of  the  old  building,  was 
vacated  by  its  last  tenants  on  account  of  its  being  haunted. 
Every  evening  at  the  hour  the  soldiers  used  to  be  marched 
up  to  bed,  they  heard  the  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  the  feet 
ascending  the  staircase." 

"That  may  be,"  I  replied,  "but  they  kneni  their  house 
stood  on  the  site  of  the  barracks,  and  I  didnt." 

My  eldest  daughter  was  spending  a  holiday  with  me 
once  after  my  second  marriage,  and  during  the  month  of 
August.  She  had  been  very  much  overworked,  and  I  made 
her  lie  in  bed  till  noon.  One  morning  I  had  been  to  her 
room  at  that  hour  to  wake  her,  and  on  turning  to  leave  it 
(in  the  broad  daylight,  remember),  I  encountered  a  man  on 
the  landing  outside  her  door.  He  was  dressed  in  a  white 
shirl  with  black  studs  down  the  front,  and  a  pair  of  black 
cloth  trousers.  He  had  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  small 
features  ;  altogether,  he  struck  me  as  having  rather  a  sinis- 
ter and  unpleasant  appearance.  I  stood  still,  with  the  open 
door  in  my  hand,  and  gazed  at  him.  He  looked  at  me 
also  for  a  minute,  and  then  turned  and  walked  upstairs  to 
an  upper  storey  where  the  nursery  was  situated,  beckoning 
me,  with  a  jerk  of  his  hand,  to  follow  him.  My  daughter 
(remarking  a  peculiar  expression  in  my  eyes,  which  I  am 
told  they  assume  on  such  occasions)  said,  "  Mother  !  what 
do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Only  a  spirit,"  I  answered,  "  and  he  has  gone  upstairs." 

"  Now,  what  is  the  good  of  seeing  them  in  that  way," 
said  Eva,  rather  impatiently  (for  this  dear  child  always 
disliked  and  avoided  Spiritualism),  and  I  was  fain  to  con- 
fess that  I  really  did  not  know  the  especial  good  of 
encountering   a  sinister-looking   gentleman   in  shirt   and 


46  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

trousers,  on  a  blazing  noon  in  August.  After  which  the 
circumstance  passed  from  my  mind,  until  recalled  again. 
A  itw  months  later  I  had  occasion  to  change  the  child- 
ren's nurse,  and  the  woman  who  took  her  place  was  an 
Icelandic  girl  named  Margaret  Thommassen,  wjio  had  only- 
been  in  England  for  three  weeks.  I  found  that  she  had 
been  educated  far  above  the  average  run  of  domestic  ser- 
vants, and  was  well  acquainted  with  the  writings  of  Sweden- 
borg  and  other  autliors.  One  day  as  I  walked  up  the 
nursery  stairs  to  visit  the  children  in  bed,  I  encountered 
the  same  man  I  had  seen  outside  my  daughter's  room, 
standing  on  the  upper  landing,  as  though  waiting  my 
approach.  He  was  dressed  as  before,  but  this  time  his 
arms  were  folded  across  his  breast  and  his  face  downcast, 
as  though  he  were  unhappy  about  something.  He  disap- 
peared as  I  reached  the  landing,  and  I  mentioned  the 
circumstance  to  no  one.  A  Itw  days  later,  Margaret 
Thommassen  asked  me  timidly  if  I  believed  in  the  possi- 
bility of  the  spirits  of  the  departed  returning  to  this  earth. 
When  I  replied  that  I  did,  she  appeared  overjoyed,  and 
said  she  had  never  hoped  to  find  anyone  in  England  to 
whom  she  could  speak  about  it.  She  then  gave  me  a  mass 
of  evidence  on  the  subject  which  forms  a  large  part  of  the 
religion  of  the  Icelanders.  She  told  me  that  she  felt  uneasy 
about  her  eldest  brother,  to  whom  she  was  strongly 
attached.  He  had  left  Iceland  a  year  before  to  become  a 
waiter  in  Germany,  and  had  promised  faithfully  that  so  long 
as  he  lived  she  should  hear  from  him  every  month,  and 
when  he  failed  to  write  she  must  conclude  he  was  dead. 
Margaret  told  me  she  had  heard  nothing  from  him  now 
for  three  months,  and  each  night  when  the  nursery  light 
was  put  out,  someome  came  and  sat  at  the  foot  of  her  bed 
and  sighed.  She  then  produced  his  photograph,  and  to 
my  astonishment  I  recognized  at  once  the  man  who  had 
appeared  to  me  some  months  before  I  knew  that  such  a 
woman  as  Margaret  Thommassen  existed.  He  was  taken 
in  a  shirt  and  trousers,  just  as  I  had  seen  him,  and  wore 
the  same  repulsive  (to  me)  and  sinister  expression.  I  then 
told  his  sister  that  I  had  already  seen  him  twice  in  that 
house,  and  she  grew  very  excited  and  anxious  to  learn  the 
truth.  In  consequence  I  sat  with  her  in  hopes  of  obtain- 
ing some  news  of  her  brother,  who  immediately  came  to 
the  table,  and  told  her  that  he  was  dead,  with  the  circum- 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  47 

Stances  under  which  he  had  died,  and  the  address  where 
she  was  to  write,  to  obtain  particulars.  And  on  Margaret 
Thommassen  writing  as  she  was  directed,  she  obtained  the 
practical  proofs  of  her  brother's  death,  without  which  this 
story  would  be  worthless. 

My  sister  Cecil  lives  with  lier  family  in  Somerset,  and 
many  years  ago  I  went  down  there  to  visit  her  for  the  first 
time  since  she  had  moved  into  a  new  house  which  I  had 
never  seen  before.  She  put  me  to  sleep  in  the  guest 
chamber,  a  large,  handsome  room,  just  newly  furnished  by 
Oetzmann.  But  I  could  not  sleep  in  it.  The  very  first 
night  some  one  walked  ;ip  and  down  the  room,  groaning 
and  sighing  close  to  my  ears,  and  he,  she,  or  it  especially 
annoyed  me  by  continually  touching  the  new  stiff  counter- 
pane with  a  "  scrooping  "  sound  that  set  my  teeth  on  edge, 
and  sent  my  heart  up  into  my  mouth.  I  kep't  on  saying, 
"  Go  away  !  Don't  come  near  me  !  "  for  its  proximity  in- 
spired me  with  a  horror  and  repugnance  which  I  have  sel- 
dom felt  under  similar  circumstances.  I  did  not  say  any- 
thing at  first  to  my  sister,  who  is  rather  nervous  on  the 
subject  of  "  bogies,"  but  on  the  third  night  I  could  stand 
it  no  longer,  and  told  her  plainly  the  room  was  haunted, 
and  I  wished  she  would  put  me  in  her  dressing-room,  or 
with  her  servants,  sooner  than  let  me  remain  there,  as  I 
could  get  no  rest.  Then  the  truth  came  out,  and  she  con- 
fessed that  the  last  owner  of  the  house  had  committed  sui- 
'cide  in  that  very  room,  and  showed  me  the  place  on  the 
boards,  underneath  the  carpet,  where  the  stain  of  his  bood 
still  remained.    A  lively  sort  of  room  to  sleep  all  alone  in. 

Another  sister  of  mine,  Blanche,  used  to  live  in  a  haunted 
house  in  Bruges,  of  which  a  description  will  be  found  in 
the  chapter  headed,  ''  The  Story  of  the  Monk."  Long,  how- 
ever, before  the  monk  was  heard  of,  I  could  not  sleep  in 
her  house  on  account  of  the  disturbances  in  my  room,  for 
which  my  sister  used  to  laugh  at  me.  But  even  when  my 
husband,  Colonel  Lean,  and  I  stayed  there  together,  it  was 
much  the  same.  One  night  I  waked  him  to  see  the  figure 
of  a  woman,  who  had  often  visited  me,  standing  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  She  was  quaintly  attired  in  a  sort  of  leathern 
boddice  or  jerkin,  laced  up  the  front  over  a  woollen  petticoat 
of  some  dark  color.  She  wore  a  cap  of  Mechlin  lace,  with 
the  large  flaps  at  the  side,  adopted  by  Flemish  women  to 
this  day ;  her  hair  was  combed  tightly  off  her  forehead,  and 
she  wore  a  profusion  of  gold  ornaments. 


48  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

My  husband  could  describe  her  as  vividly  as  I  did,  which 
proves  how  plainly  the  apparition  must  have  shown  itself. 
I  waked  on  several  occasions  to  see  this  woman  busy 
(apparently)  with  the  contents  of  an  old  carved  oak  armoir 
which  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  which,  I  suppose, 
must  have  had  something  to  do  with  herself.  My  eldest 
son  joined  me  at  Bruges  on  this  occasion.  He  was  a  young 
fellow  of  twenty,  who  had  never  practised,  nor  even  enquired 
into  Spiritualism — fresh  from  sea,  and  about  as  free  from 
fear  or  superstitious  fancies  as  a  mortal  could  be.  He  was 
put  to  sleep  in  a  room  on  the  other  side  of  the  house,  and 
I  saw  from  the  first  that  he  was  grave  about  it,  but  I  did 
not  ask  him  the  reason,  though  I  felt  sure,  from  personal 
experience,  that  he  would  hear  or  see  something  before 
long.     In  a  few  days  he  came  to  me  and  said — 

"  Mother  1  I'm  going  to  take  my  mattress  into  the  co- 
lonel's dressing-room  to-night  and  sleep  there."  I  asked 
him  why.  He  replied,  "  It's  impossible  to  stay  in  that 
room  any  longer.  I  wouldn't  mind  if  they'd  let  me  sleep, 
but  they  won't.  There's  something  walks  about  half  the 
night,  whispering  and  muttering,  and  touching  the  bed- 
clothes, and  though  I  don't  believe  in  any  of  your  rubbishy 
spirits,  I'll  be  '  jiggered '  if  I  sleep  there  any  longer."  So 
he  was  not  "  jiggered "  (whatever  that  may  be),  as  he 
refused  to  enter  the  room  again. 

I  cannot  end  this  chapter  more  appropriately  than  by 
relating  a  very  remarkable  case  of  "  optical  illusion  "  which 
was  seen  by  myself  alone.  It  was  in  the  month  of  July, 
1880,  and  I  had  gone  down  alone  to  Brighton  for  a  week's 
quiet.  I  had  some  important  literary  work  to  finish,  and 
the  exigencies  of  the  London  season  made  too  many  de- 
mands upon  my  time.  So  I  packed  up  my  writing  materials, 
and  took  a  lodging  all  to  myself,  and  set  hard  to  work,  I 
used  to  write  all  day  and  walk  in  the  evening.  It  was  light 
then  till  eight  or  nine  o'clock,  and  jlhe  Esplanade  used  to 
be  crowded  till  a  late  hour.  I  was  pushing  my  way,  on  the 
evening  of  the  9th  of  July,  through  the  crowd,  thinking  of 
my  work  more  than  anything  else,  when  I  saw,  as  I  fully 
thought,  my  step-son,  Francis  Lean,  leaning  with  his  back 
against  the  palings  at  the  edge  of  the  cliff  and  smiling  at 
me.  He  was  a  handsome  lad  of  eighteen  who  was  supposed 
to  have  sailed  in  his  ship  for  the  Brazils  five  months  before. 
But  he  had  been  a  wild  young  fellow,  causing  his  father 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  49 

much  trouble  and  anxiety,  and  my  first  impression  was  one 
of  great  annoyance,  thinking  naturally  that,  since  I  saw 
him  there,  he  had  never  sailed  at  all,  but  run  away  from  his 
ship  at  the  last  moment.  I  hastened  up  to  him,  therefore, 
but  as  I  reached  his  side,  he  turned  round  quite  method- 
ically, and  walked  quickly  down  a  flight  of  steps  that  led 
to  the  beach.  I  followed  him,  and  found  myself  amongst  a 
group  of  ordinary  seamen  mending  their  nets,  but  I  could 
see  Francis  nowhere.  I  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  the 
occurrence,  but  it  never  struck  me  that  it  was  not  either  the 
lad  himself  or  some  one  remarkably  like  him.  The  same 
night,  however,  after  I  had  retired  to  bed  in  a  room  that 
was  unpleasantly  briliant  with  the  moonlight  streaming  in 
at  the  window,  I  was  roused  from  my  sleep  by  someone 
turning  the  handle  of  my  door,  and  there  stood  Francis  in 
his  naval  uniform,  with  the  peaked  cap  on  his  head,  smiling 
at  me  as  he  had  done  upon  the  cliff.  I  started  up  in  bed 
intending  to  speak  to  him,  when  he  laid  his  finger  on  his 
lips  and  faded  away.  This  second  vision  made  me  think 
something  must  have  happened  to  the  boy,  but  I  determined 
not  to  say  anything  to  my  husband  about  it  until  it  was 
verified.  Shortly  after  my  return  to  London,  we  were 
going,  in  company  with  my  own  son  (also  a  sailor),  to  see 
his  ship  which  was  lying  in  the  docks,  when,  as  we  were 
driving  through  Poplar,  I  again  saw  my  stepson  Francis 
standing  on  the  pavement,  and  smiling  at  me.  That  time 
I  spoke.  I  said  to  Colonel  Lean,  "  I  am  sure  I  saw  Francis 
standing  there.  Do  you  think  it  is  possible  he  may  not 
have  sailed  after  all  ?  "  But  Colonel  Lean  laughed  at  the 
idea.  He  believed  it  to  be  a  chance  likeness  I  had  seen. 
Only  the  lad  was  too  good-looking  to  have  many  duplicates 
in  this  world.  We  visited  the  seaside  after  that,  and  in 
September,  whilst  we  were  staying  at  Folkestone,  Colonel 
Lean  received  a  letter  to  say  that  his  son  Francis  had  been 
drowned  by  the  upsetting  of  a  boat  in  the  surf  of  the  Bay 
of  Callao,  in  the  Brazils,  on  the  <^th  of  July — the  day  I  had 
seen  him  twice  in  Brighton,  two  months  before  we  heard 
that  he  was  gone. 


50  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

ON    SCEPTICISM, 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  who  have  done  more  harm 
to  the  cause  of  Spiritualism  than  the  testimony  of  all  the 
scientists  has  done  good,  and  those  are  the  enthusiasts 
and  the  sceptics.  The  first  believe  everything  they  see  or 
hear.  Without  giving  themselves  the  trouble  to  obtain 
proofs  of  the  genuineness  of  the  manifestations,  they  rush 
impetuously  from  one  acquaintance  to  the  other,  detailing 
their  experience  with  so  much  exaggeration  and  such  un- 
bounded faith,  that  they  make  the  absurdity  of  it  patent 
to  all.  They  are  generally  people  of  low  intellect,  credu- 
lous dispositions,  and  weak  nerves.  They  bow  down 
before  the  influences  as  if  they  were  so  many  little  gods 
descended  from  heaven,  instead  of  being,  as  in  the  majority 
of  instances,  spirits  a  shade  less  holy  than  our  own,  who, 
for  their  very  shortcomings,  are  unable  to  rise  above  the 
atmosphere  that  surrounds  this  gross  and  material  world. 
These  are  the  sort  of  spiritualists  whom  Punch  and  other 
comic  papers  have  very  justly  ridiculed.  Who  does  not 
remember  the  picture  of  the  afflicted  widow,  for  whom  the 
medium  has  just  called  up  the  departed  Jones  ? 

"  Jones,"  she  falters,  "  are  you  happy  ?  " 

"  Much  happier  than  I  was  down  here,"  growls  Jones. 

"  O  !  then  you  viust  be  in  heaven  !  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  quite  the  reverse,"  is  the  reply. 

Who  also  has  not  sat  a  seance  where  such  people  have 
not  made  themselves  so  ridiculous  as  to  bring  the  cause 
they  profess  to  adore  into  contempt  and  ignominy.  Yet 
to  allow  the  words  and  deeds  of  fools  to  affect  one's  inward 
and  private  conviction  of  a  matter  would  be  tantamount  to 
giving  up  the  pursuit  of  everything  in  which  one's  fellow 
creatures  can  take  a  part. 

The  second  class  to  which  I  alluded — the  sceptics — have 
not  done  so  much  injury  to  Spiritualism  as  the  enthusiasts, 
because  they  are  as  a  rule,  so  intensely  bigoted  and  hard- 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  5 1 

headed,  and  narrow-minded,  that  they  overdo  their  protes- 
tations, and  render  them  harmless.  The  sceptic  refuses  to 
believe  anything,  because  he  has  found  out  one  thing  to 
be  a  fraud.  If  one  medium  deceives,  all  the  mediums 
must  deceive.  If  one  seance  is  a  failure,  none  can  be 
successful.  If  he  gains  no  satisfactory  test  of  the  presence 
of  the  spirits  of  the  departed,  no  one  has  ever  gained  such 
a  test.  Now,  such  reason  is  neither  just  nor  logical. 
Again,  a  sceptic  fully  expects  his  testimony  to  be  accepted 
and  believed,  yet  he  will  never  believe  any  truth  on  the 
testimony  of  another  person.  And  if  he  is  told  that, 
given  certain  conditions,  he  can  see  this  or  hear  the  other, 
he  says,  "  No  !  I  will  see  it  and  hear  it  without  any  con- 
ditions, or  else  I  will  proclaim  it  all  a  fraud."  In  like 
manner,  we  might  say  to  a  savage,  on  showing  him  a 
watch,  "  If  you  will  keep  your  eye  on  those  hands,  you 
will  see  them  move  round  to  tell  the  hours  and  minutes," 
and  he  should  reply,  "  I  must  put  the  watch  into  boiling 
water — those  are  my  conditions — and  if  it  won't  go  then, 
I  will  not  believe  it  can  go  at  all." 

I  don't  mind  a  man  being  a  sceptic  in  Spiritualism.  I 
don't  see  how  he  can  help  (considering  the  belief  in  which 
we  are  reared)  being  a  sceptic,  until  he  has  proved  so 
strange  a  matter  for  himself.  But  I  do  object  to  a  man  or  a 
woman  taking  part  in  a  stance  with  the  sole  intention  of 
detecting  deceit,  not  ivhe7i  it  has  happened,  but  before  it 
has  happened — of  bringing  an  argumentative,  disputa- 
tious mind,  full  of  the  idea  that  it  is  going  to  be  tricked 
and  humbugged  into  (perhaps)  a  private  circle  who  are 
sitting  (like  Rosa  Dartle)  "  simply  for  informatioil,"  and 
scattering  all  the  harmony  and  good-will  about  him  broad- 
cast. He  couldn't  do  it  to  a  human  assembly  without 
breaking  up  the  party.  Why  should  he  expect  to  be  more 
kindly  welcomed  by  a  spiritual  one  ?  I  have  seen  an 
immense  deal  of  courtesy  shown  under  such  circumstances 
to  men  whom  I  should  have  liked  to  see  kicked  downstairs. 
I  have  seen  them  enter  a  lady's  private  drawing-room,  by 
invitation,  to  witness  manifestations  which  were  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  made  a  means  of  gain,  and  have 
heard  them  argue,  and  doubt,  and  contradict,  until  they 
have  given  their  hostess  and  her  friends  the  He  to  their 
faces.  And  the  world  in  general  would  be  quite  ready  to 
side  with  these  (so-called)  gentlemen,  not  because  their 


52  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

word  or  their  wisdom  was  better  worth  than  that  of  their 
fellow  guests,  but  because  they  protested  against  the  truth 
of  a  thing  which  it  had  made  up  its  mind  to  be  impossible. 
I  don't  mind  a  sceptic  myself,  as  I  said  before,  but  he  must 
be  unbiassed,  which  few  sceptics  are.  As  a  rule,  they 
have  decided  the  question  at  issue  for  themselves  before 
they  commence  to  investigate  it. 

I  find  that  few  people  outside  the  pale  of  Spiritualism 
have  heard  of  the  Dialectical  Society,  which  was  a  scientific 
society  assembled  a  few  years  ago  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
enquiring  into  the  truth  of  the  matter.  It  was  composed 
of  forty  members, — ten  lawyers,  ten  scientists,  ten  clergy- 
men, and  ten  chemists  (I  think  that  was  the  arrangement), 
and  they  held  forty  seances.,  and  the  published  report  at 
the  close  of  them  was,  that  not  one  of  these  men  of  learn- 
ing and  repute  could  find  any  natural  cause  for  the  wonders 
he  had  witnessed.  I  know  that  there  are  a  thousand 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  belief.  The  extraordinarily  contra- 
dictory manner  in  which  Protestants  are  brought  up,  to 
believe  in  one  and  the  same  breath  that  spirits  were 
common  visitants  to  earth  at  the  periods  of  which  the 
Bible  treats,  but  that  it  is  impossible  they  can  return  to  it 
now,  although  the  Lord  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever.  The  conditions  of  darkness  for  the  creation  of 
materialized  spirits,  and  the  resemblance  they  sometimes 
bear  to  the  medium,  are  two  fearful  stumbling-blocks.  Yet 
one  must  know  that  all  things  are  created  in  the  dark,  and 
that  even  a  seed  cannot  sprout  if  you  let  the  light  in  upon 
it,  while  as  for  the  resemblance  between  the  spirit  and  the 
medium,  from  whom  it  takes  the  material  being  that  enables 
it  to  appear,  if  investigators  would  only  persevere  with  their 
enquiries,  they  would  find,  as  I  have,  that  that  is  a  dis- 
appointment which  has  its  remedy  in  Time.  Vv^hen  people 
call  on  me  to  explain  such  things,  I  can  only  say  that  I 
know  no  more  how  they  come  than  they  do,  or  that  I  know 
how  /  came,  a  living,  sentient  creature,  into  the  world. 
Besides  (as  I  have  said  before),  I  write  these  pages  to  tell 
only  what  I  have  seen,  and  not  to  argue  how  it  came  to 
pass  that  I  saw  it. 

I  have  a  little  story  to  tell  here  which  powerfully  illus- 
trates the  foregoing  remarks.     The  lines, 

"  A  woman  convinced  against  her  will 
Is  of  the  same  opinion  still," 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  53 

might  have  been  penned  with  as  much  truth  of  sceptics. 
Men  who  are  sceptical,  i.e.,  so  thoroughly  wrapt  up  in  con- 
ceit of  their  powers  of  judgment  and  determination  that  it 
becomes  impossible  for  them  to  believe  themselves  mis- 
taken, will  deny  the  evidence  of  all  their  senses  sooner 
than  confess  they  may  be  in  the  wrong.  Such  an  one  may 
be  a  clever  scientist  or  a  shrewd  man  of  business,  but  he 
can  never  be  a  genius.  For  genius  is  invariably  humble 
of  its  own  powers,  and,  therefore,  open  to  conviction. 
But  the  lesser  minds,  who  are  only  equal  to  grasping  such 
details  as  may  have  been  drummed  into  them  by  sheer 
force  of  study,  appear  to  have  no  capability  of  stretching 
beyond  a  certain  limit.  They  are  hedged  in  and  cramped 
by  the  opinions  in  which  they  have  been  reared,  or  that 
they  have  built  up  for  themselves  out  of  the  petty  material 
their  brain  affords  them,  and  have  lost  their  powers  of 
elasticity.  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  further,"  seems 
to  be  the  fiat  pronounced  on  too  many  men's  reasoning 
faculties.  Instead  of  believing  the  power  of  God  and  the 
resources  of  nature  to  be  illimitable,  they  want  to  keep 
them  within  the  little  circle  that  encompasses  their  own 
brains.  •'  I  can't  see  it,  and  therefore  it  cannot  be."  There 
was  a  time  when  I  used  to  take  the  trouble  to  try  and  con- 
vince such  men,  but  I  have  long  ceased  to  do  so.  It  is 
quite  indifferent  to  me  what  they  believe  or  don't  believe. 
And  with  such  minds,  even  if  they  were  convinced  of  its 
possibility,  they  would  probably  make  no  good  use  of 
spiritual  intercourse.  For  there  is  no  doubt  it  can  be 
turned  to  evil  uses  as  well  as  to  good. 

Some  years  ago  I  was  on  friendly  terms  with  a  man  of 
this  sort.  He  was  a  doctor,  accounted  clever  in  his  pro- 
fession, and  I  knew  him  to  be  an  able  arguist,  and  thought 
he  had  common  sense  enough  not  to  eat  his  own  words, 
but  the  sequel  proved  that  I  was  mistaken.  We  had 
several  conversations  together  on  Spiritualism,  and  as  Dr. 

H was  a  complete  disbeliever  in  the  existence  of  a 

God  and  a  future  life,  I  was  naturally  not  surprised  to 
find  that  he  did  not  place  any  credence  in  the  account 
I  gave  him  of  my  spiritualistic  experiences.  Many 
medical  men  attribute  such  experiences  entirely  to  a 
diseased  condition  of  mind  or  body. 

But  when  I  asked  Dr.H what  he  should  think  if  he 

saw  them  with  his  own  eyes,  I  confess  I  was  startled  to 


54  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

hear  him  answer  that  he  should  say  his  eyes  deceived  him. 
"  But  if  you  heard  them  speak  ?  "  I  continued. 

"  I  should  disbelieve  my  ears." 

"  And  if  you  touched  and  handled  them  ?  " 

"  I  should  mistrust  my  sense  of  feeling." 

"Then  by  what  means,"  I  argued,  "  do  you  know  that 
I  am  Florence  Marryat?  You  can  only  see  me  and  hear 
me  and  touch  me  !  What  is  there  to  prevent  your  senses 
misleading  you  at  the  present  moment?  " 

But  to  this  argument  Dr.  H only  returned  a  pitying 

smile,  professing  to  think  me,  on  this  point  at  least,  too 
feeble-minded  to  be  worthy  of  reply,  but  in  reality  not 
knowing  what  on  earth  to  say.  He  often,  however,  recurred 
to  the  subject  of  Spiritualism,  and  on  several  occasions 
told  me  that  if  I  could  procure  him  the  opportunity  of  sub- 
mitting a  test  which  he  might  himself  suggest,  he  should  be 
very  much  obliged  to  me.  It  was  about  this  time  that  a 
young  medium  named  William  Haxby,  now  passed  away, 
went  to  live  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Olive  in  Ainger  Terrace, 
and  we  were  invited  to  attend  a  seance  given  by  him.  Mrs. 
Olive,  when  giving  the  invitation,  informed  me  that  Mr. 
Haxby  had  been  very  successful  in  procuring  direct  writing 
in  scaled  boxes,  and  she  asked  me,  if  I  wished  to  try  the 
experiment,  to  take  a  secured  box,  with  writing  materials 
in  it,  to  the  seance,  and  see  what  would  happen  to  it. 

Here  was,  I  thought,  an  excellent  opportunity  for  Dr. 

H 's  test,  and  I  sent  for  him  and   told  him  what  had 

been  proposed.  I  urged  him  to  prepare  the  test  entirely 
by  himself,  and  to  accompany  me  to  the  seance  and  see 
what  occurred, — to  all  of  which  he  readily  consented.  In- 
deed, he  became  quite  excited  on  the  subject,  being  certain 
it  would  prove  a  failure  ;  and  in  my  presence  he  made  the 
following  preparations  : — 

I.  Half  a  sheet  of  ordinary  cream-laid  note-paper  and 
half  a  cedar-wood  black  lead  pencil  were  placed  in  a 
jeweller's  cardwood  box. 

II.  The  lid  of  the  box  was  carefully  glued  down  all  round 
to  the  bottom  part. 

III.  Tiie  box  was  wrapt  in  white  writing  paper,  which 
was  gummed  over  it. 

IV.  It  was  tied  eight  times  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  silk 
made  for  tying  up  arteries,  and  the  eight  knots  were  knots 
known  to  (as  Dr.  H informed  me)  medical  men  only. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  55 

V.  Each  of  the  eight  knots  was  sealed  with  sealing-wax, 

and  impressed  with  Dr,  H 's  crest  seal,  which  he  always 

wore  on  his  watch-chain. 

VI.  The  packet  was  again  folded  in  brown  paper,  and 
sealed  and  tied  to  preserve  the  inside  from  injury. 

When  Dr.  H had  finished  it,  he  said  to  me,  "  If  the 

spirits  (or  anybody)  can  write  on  that  paper  witliout  cut- 
ting the  silk,  1  will  believe  whatever  you  wish."  I  asked, 
"  Are  you  quite  sure  that  the  packet  could  not  be  undone 
without  your  detecting  it?"  His  answer  was — "That 
silk  is  not  to  be  procured  except  from  a  medical  man ;  it 
is  manufactured  expressly  for  the  tying  of  arteries  ;  and  the 
knots  I  have  made  are  known  only  to  medical  men.  They 
are  the  knots  we  use  in  tying  arteries.  The  seal  is  my  own 
crest,  which  never  leaves  my  watch-chain,  and  I  defy  any- 
one to  undo  those  knots  without  cutting  them,  or  to  tie 
them  again,  if  cut.  I  repeat — if  your  friends  can  make,  or 
cause  to  be  made,  the  smallest  mark  on  that  paper,  and 
return  me  the  box  in  the  condition  it  now  is,  I  will  believe 
anything  you  choose."  And  I  confess  I  was  very  dubious 
of  the  result  myself,  and  almost  sorry  that  I  had  subjected 
the  doctor's  incredulity  to  so  severe  a  test. 

On  the  evening  appointed  we  attended  the  seance,  Dr. 

H taking   the  prepared  packet  with   him.     He  Avas 

directed  to  place  it  under  his  chair,  but  he  tied  a  string  to 
it  and  put  it  under  his  foot,  retaining  the  other  end  of  the 
string  in  his  hand.  The  meeting  was  not  one  for  favorably 
impressing  an  unbeliever  in  Spiritualism.  There  were  too 
many  people  present,  and  too  many  strangers.  The  or- 
dinary manifestations,  to  my  mind,  are  worse  than  useless, 
unless  they  have  been  preceded  by  extraordinary  ones  ;  so 
that  the  doctor  returned  home  more  sceptical  than  before, 
and  I  repented  that  I  had  taken  him  there.  One  thing  had 
occurred,  however,  that  he  could  not  account  for.  The 
packet  which  he  had  kept,  as  he  thought,  under  his  foot 
the  whole  time,  was  found,  at  the  close  of  the  meeting,  to 
have  disappeared.  Another  gentleman  had  brought  a 
sealed  box,  with  paper  and  pencil  in  it,  to  the  seance;  and 
at  the  close  it  was  opened  in  the  presence  of  all  assembled, 
and  found  to  contain  a  closely  written  letter  from  his 
deceased  wife.  But  the  doctor's  box  had  evaporated,  and 
was  nowhere  to  be  found.  The  door  of  the  room  had 
been   locked  all  the   time,  and  we   searched  the   room 


56  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

thoroughly,  but  without  success.  Dr.  H was  naturally 

triumphant. 

"  They  couldn't  undo  my  knots  and  my  seals,"  he  said, 
exulting  over  me,  "  and  so  they  wisely  did  not  return  the 
packet.  Both  packets  were  of  course  taken  from  the  room 
during  the  sitting  by  some  confederate  of  the  medium.  The 
other  one  was  easily  managed,  and  put  back  again — mine 
proved  unmanageable,  and  so  they  have  retained  it.  I 
knew  it  would  be  so  !  "  ' 

And  he  twinkled  his  eyes  at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I 
have  %\\\!i'iyou  up.  You  will  not  venture  to  describe  any  of 
the  marvels  you  have  seen  to  me  after  this."  Of  course 
the  failure  did  not  discompose  me,  nor  shake  my  belief.  I 
never  believed  spiritual  beings  to  be  omnipotent,  omni- 
present, nor  omniscient.  They  had  failed  before,  and 
doubtless  they  would  fail  again.  But  if  an  acrobatic  per- 
former fails  to  turn  a  double  somersault  on  to  another  man's 
head  two  or  three  times,  it  does  not  falsify  the  fact  that  he 
succeeds  on  the  fourth  occasion.     I  was  sorry  that  the  test 

had  been  a  failure,  for  Dr.   H 's  sake,   but  I   did  not 

despair  of  seeing  the  box  again.  And  at  the  end  of  a 
fortnight  it  was  left  at  my  house  by  ]\Ir.  Olive,  with  a  note 
to  say  that  it  had  been  found  that  morning  on  the  mantel- 
piece in  Mr.  Haxby's  bedroom,  and  he  lost  no  time  in 
returning  it  to  me.  It  was  wrapt  in  the  brown  paper,  tied 
and  sealed,  apparently  just  as  we  had  carried  it  to  the 
stance  in  Ainger  Terrace;    and  I  wrote  at  once    to  Dr. 

H announcing  its  return,  and  asking  him  to  come  over 

and  open  it  in  my  presence.  He  came,  took  the  packet  in 
his  hand,  and  having  stripped  off  tlie  outer  wrapper, 
examined  it  carefully.  There  were  four  tests,  it  may  be 
remembered,  applied  to  the  packet. 

I.  The  arterial  silk,  procurable  only  from  a  medical 
man. 

II.  The  knots  to  be  tied  only  by  medical  men. 

III.  Dr.  H 's  own  crest,  always  kept   on   his  watch 

chain,  as  a  seal. 

IV.  The  hd  of  the  cardboard  box,  glued  all  round  to  the 
bottom  part. 

As  the  doctor  scrutinized  the  silk,  the  knots,  and  the 
seals,  I  watched  him  narrowly. 

*'  Are  you  quite  sure,'^  I  asked,  ''  that  it  is  the  same 
paper  in  which  you  wrapt  it  ?  " 


THERE   IS  NO    DEATH.  57 

"  I  am  quite  sure." 

"■  And  the  same  silk  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure." 

"  Your  knots  have  not  been  untied  ?  " 

"  I  am  positive  that  they  have  not." 

"  Nor  your  seal  been  tampered  with  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not  !     It  is  just  as  I  sealed  it." 

"  Be  careful,  Dr.  H ,"  I  continued.     "  Remember  I 

shall  write  down  all  you  say." 

"I  am  willing  to  swear  to  it  in  a  court  of  justice,"  he 
replied. 

"  Then  will  you  open  the  packet  ?  " 

Dr.  H took  the  scissors  and  cut  the  silk  at  each  seal 

and  knot,  then  tore  off  the  gummed  white  writing  j^aper 
(which  was  as  fresh  as  when  he  had  put  it  on),  and  tried 
to  pull  open  the  card-board  box.  But  as  he  could  not  do 
this  in  consequence  of  the  lid  being  glued  down,  he  took 
out  his  penknife  and  cut  it  all  round.  As  he  did  so,  he 
looked  at  me  and  said,  "  Mark  my  words.  There  will  be 
nothing  written  on  the  paper.     It  is  impossible  !  " 

He  lifted  the  lid,  and  behold  the  box  was  empty  !  The 
half  sheet  of  notepaper  and  the  half  cedar  wood  pencil  had 
both  entirely  disappeared.  Not  a  crumb  of  lead,  nor  a 
shred  of  paper  remained  behind.  I  looked  at  the  doctor, 
and  the  doctor  looked  completely  bewildered. 

"  Well !'''  I  said,  interrogatively. 

He  shifted  about — grew  red — and  began  to  bluster. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  it?  "  I  asked.  "  How  do  you 
account  for  it  ?  " 

'^  In  the  easiest  way  in  the  world,"  he  replied,  trying  to 
brave  it  out.  "  It's  the  most  transparent  deception  I  ever 
saw.  They've  kept  the  thing  a  fortnight  and  had  time  to 
do  anything  with  it.  A  child  could  see  through  this. 
Surely  your  bright  wits  can  want  no  help  to  an  explana- 
tion." 

"  I  am  not  so  bright  as  you  give  me  credit  for,"  I 
answered.     "  Will  you  explain  your  meaning  to  me  ?  " 

"With  pleasure.  They  have  evidently  made  an  invisible 
slit  in  the  joining  of  the  box  cover,  and  with  a  pair  of  fine 
forceps  drawn  the  paper  through  it,  bit  by  bit.  For  the 
pencil,  they  drew  that  by  the  same  means  to  the  slit  and 
then  pared  it,  little  by  little,  with  a  lancet,  till  they  could 
shake  out  the  fragments." 


58  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

"  That  must  have  required  very  careful  manipulation,"  I 
observed. 

"  Naturally.  But  tliey've  taken  a  fortniglit  to  do  it 
in." 

"  But  how  about  the  arterial  silk  ?  "  I  said. 

"  They  must  have  procured  some  from  a  surgeon." 

"  And  your  famous  knots  ?  " 

"  They  got  some  surgeon  to  tic  them  !  " 

"  But  your  crest  and  seal  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  they  must  have  taken  a  facsimile  of  that  in  order 
to  reproduce  it.  It  is  very  cleverly  done,  but  quite  ex- 
plicable !  " 

.  "  But  you  told  me  before  you  opened  the  packet  that 
you  would  take  your  oath  in  a  court  of  justice  it  had  not 
been  tempered  with." 

"  I  was  evidently  deceived." 

"And  you  really  believe,  then,  that  an  uneducated  lad 
like  Mr.  Haxby  would  take  the  trouble  to  take  impressions 
of  seals  and  to  procure  arterial  silk  and  the  services  of  a 
surgeon,  in  order,  not  to  mystify  or  convert  jou,  but  to 
gratify  ;//<?,  whose  box  he  believes  it  to  be." 

"  I  am  sure  he  has  done  so  !  " 

"  But  just  now  you  were  equally  sure  he  had  not  done 
so.  Why  sliould  you  trust  your  senses  in  one  case  more 
than  in  the  other  ?  And  if  Mr.  Haxby  has  played  a  trick 
on  me,  as  you  suppose,  why  did  you  not  discover  the  slit 
when  you  examined  the  box,  before  opening  ?  " 

"  Because  my  eyes  misled  me  !  " 

"  Then  after  all,"  I  concluded,  "  the  best  thing  you  can 
say  of  yourself  is  that  you — a  man  of  reputed  science,  skill, 
and  sense,  and  with  a  strong  belief  in  your  own  powers — 
are  unable  to  devise  a  test  in  which  you  shall  not  be  out- 
witted by  a  person  so  inferior  to  yourself  in  age,  intellect 
and  education  as  young  Haxby.  But  I  will  give  you 
another  chance.  Make  up  another  packet  in  any  way  you 
like.  Apply  to  it  the  severest  tests  which  your  ingenuity 
can  devise,  or  other  men  of  genius  can  suggest  to  you,  and 
let  me  give  it  to  Haxby  and  see  if  the  contents  can  be  ex- 
tracted, or  tampered  with  a  second  time." 

"  It  would  be  useless,"  said  Dr.  H .     "  If  they  were 

extracted  through   the   iron   panels  of  a  fireproof  safe,  I 
would  not  believe  it  was  done  by  any  but  natural  means." 

"  Because  you  do  not  wis/i  to  believe,"  I  argued. 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  59 

**  You  are  right."  he  confessed,  "  I  do  not  wish  to  believe. 
If  you  convinced  me  of  the  truth  of  Spiritualism,  you  would 
upset  all  the  theories  I  have  held  for  the  best  part  of  my 
life.  I  don't  believe  in  a  God,  nor  a  soul,  nor  a  future  ex- 
istence, and  I  would  rather  not  believe  in  them.  We  have 
quite  enough  trouble,  in  my  opinion,  in  tliis  life,  without 
looking  forward  to  another,  and  I  would  rather  cling  to  my 
belief  that  when  we  die  we  have  done  with  it  once  and  for 
ever." 

So  there  ended  my  attempt  to  convince  Dr.  H ,  and 

I  have  often  thought  since  that  he  was  but  a  type  of  the 
genus  sceptic.  In  this  world,  we  mostly  believe  what  we 
want  to  believe,  and  the  thought  of  a  future  troubles  us  in 
proportion  to  the  lives  we  lead  here.  It  must  often  strike 
spiritualists  (who  mostly  look  forward  to  the  day  of  their 
departure  for  another  world,  as  aschoolboylooks  forward  to 
the  commencement  of  the  holidays)  as  a  very  strange  thing, 
that  people,  as  a  rule,  evince  so  little  curiosity  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Spiritualism.  The  idea  of  the  spirits  of  the  departed 
returning  to  this  world  to  hold  communication  with  their 
friends  may  be  a  new  and  startling  one  to  them,  but  the 
very  wonder  of  it  would  make  one  expect  to  see  them 
evince  a  little  interest  in  a  matter  which  concerns  us  all. 
Yet  the  generality  of  Carlyle's  British  millions  either  pooh- 
pooh  the  notion  as  too  utterly  ridiculous  for  their  exalted 
minds  to  entertain,  or  inform  you,  with  superior  wisdom, 
that  if  Spiritualism  is  true,  they  cannot  see  the  use  of  it,  and 
have  no  craving  for  any  further  knowledge.  If  these  same 
people  expected  to  go  to  Canada  or  Australia  in  a  few 
months'  time,  how  eagerly  they  would  ask  questions  con- 
cerning their  future  home,  and  procure  the  best  informa- 
tion on  what  to  do,  whilst  they  remained  in  England,  in 
order  to  fit  themselves  for  the  journey  and  the  change. 

But  a  journey  to  the  other  world — to  the  many  worlds 
which  perhaps  await  us — a  certain  proof  that  we  shall  live 
again  (or  rather,  that  we  shall  never  die  but  need  only 
time  and  patience  and  well-living  here  to  reunite  us  to  the 
dear  one  gone  before) — that  is  a  subject  not  worthy  of  our 
trying  to  believe — of  not  sufficient  importance  for  us  to 
take  the  trouble  of  ascertaining.  I  piiy  from  my  soul  the 
men  and  women  who  have  no  dead  darling  buried  in  their 
liearts  whom  they  knoiu  they  shall  meet  in  a  home  of  God's 
own  choosing  when  this  life  ends. 


6o  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH, 

The  old,  cold  faiths  have  melted  away  beneafch  the  sun 
of  Progress.  We  can  no  longer  be  made  to  believe,  like 
little  children,  in  a  shadowy  indefinite  Heaven  where  the 
saints  sit  on  damp  clouds  with  harps  in  their  hands  for- 
ever singing  psalms  and  hymns  and  heavenly  songs.  That 
sort  of  existence  could  be  a  Heaven  to  none,  and  to  most 
it  would  be  a  Hell.  We  do  not  accept  it  now,  any  more 
than  we  do  the  other  place,  with  its  typical  fire  and  brim- 
stone, and  pitch-forking  devils  with  horns  and  tails.  But 
what  has  Religion  given  us  instead  ?  Those  whose  com- 
mon-sense will  not  permit  them  to  believe  in  the  parson's 

Heaven  and  Hell  generally  believe  (like  Dr.  H )  in 

nothing  at  all.  But  Spiritualism,  earnestly  and  faithfully 
followed,  leaves  us  in  no  doubt.  Spiritualists  know  where 
they  are  going  to.  The  spheres  are  almost  as  familiar  to 
them  as  this  earth — it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  many 
live  in  them  as  much  as  they  do  here,  and  often  they  seem 
the  more  real,  as  they  are  the  more  lasting  of  the  two. 
Spiritualists  are  in  no  manner  of  doubt  who  their  eyes  will 
see  when  opening  on  another  phase  of  life.  They  do  not 
expect  to  be  carried  straight  up  into  Abraham's  bosom, 
and  lie  snugly  there,  whilst  revengeful  demons  are  tortur- 
ing those  who  were,  perhaps,  nearest  and  dearest  to  them 
down  below.  They  have  a  better  and  more  substantial 
religion  than  that — a  revelation  that  teaches  them  that  the 
works  we  do  in  the  flesh  must  bear  their  fruit  in  the  spirit, 
and  that  no  tardy  deathbed  repentance,  no  crying  out  for 
mercy  because  Justice  is  upon  us,  like  an  unruly  child  howl- 
ing as  soon  as  the  stick  is  produced  for  chastisement — 
will  avail  to  wipe  off  the  sins  we  have  indulged  in  upon 
earth.  They  know  their  expiation  will  be  a  bitter  one,  yet 
not  without  Hope,  and  that  they  will  be  helped,  as  well  as 
help  others,  in  the  upward  path  that  leads  to  ultimate 
perfection.  The  teaching  of  Spiritualism  is  such  as  largely 
to  increase  belief  in  our  Divine  Father's  love,  our  Saviour's 
pity,  and  the  angels'  ministering  help.  But  it  does  more 
than  this,  more  than  any  religion  has  done  before.  It 
affords  \\\^  proof — the  only  proof  we  have  ever  received, 
and  our  finite  natures  can  accept — of  a  future  existence. 
The  majority  of  Christians  hope  and  trust,  and  say  they 
believe.     It  is  the  Spiritualist  only  tlmt  knoius. 

I  think  that  the  marvellous  indifference  displayed  by  the 
crowd  to  ascertain  these  truths  for  themselves  must  be 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  6l 

due,  in  a  large  number  of  instances,  to  the  unnatural  but 
universal  fear  which  is  entertained  of  Death  and  all  things 
connected  with  it.  The  same  people  who  loudly  declaim 
again  the  possibility  of  seing  a  "  ghost,"  shudder  at  the 
idea  of  doing  so.  The  creature  whom  they  have  adored 
and  waited  on  with  tenderest  devotion  passes  away,  and 
they  are  afraid  to  enter  the  room  where  his  body  lies.  That 
which  they  clung  to  and  wept  over  yesterday,  they  fear  to 
look  at  or  touch  to-day,  and  the  idea  that  he  would  return 
and  speak  to  them  would  inspire  them  with  horror.  But 
why  afraid  of  an  impossibility  ?  Their  very  fears  should 
teach  them  that  there  is  a  cause.  From  numerous  notes 
made  on  the  subject  I  have  invariably  found  that  those  who 
have  had  the  opportunity  of  testing  the  reality  of  Spirit- 
ualism, and  either  rejected  or  denied  it,  have  been  selfish, 
worldly,  and  cold-hearted  people  who  neither  care,  nor  are 
cared  for,  by  those  who  have  passed  on  to  another  sphere. 
Plenty  of  love  is  sure  to  bring  you  plenty  of  proof.  The 
mourners,  who  have  lost  sight  of  what  is  dearest  to  them, 
and  would  give  all  they  possess  for  one  more  look  at  the 
face  they  loved  so  much,  or  one  more  tone  of  the  voice  that 
was  music  to  their  ears,  are  only  too  eager  and  grateful  to 
hear  of  a  way  by  which  their  longings  may  be  gratified,  and 
would  take  any  trouble  and  go  to  any  expense  to  accom- 
plish what  they  desire. 

It  is  this  intense  yearning  to  speak  again  with  those  that 
have  left  us,  on  the  part  of  the  bereaved,  that  has  led  to 
chicanery  on  the  part  of  media  in  order  to  gratify  it. 
Wherever  money  is  to  be  made,  unfortunately  cheating 
will  step  in ;  but  because  some  tradesmen  will  sell  you 
brass  for  gold  is  no  reason  to  vote  all  jewellers  thieves. 
The  account  of  the  raising  of  Samuel  by  the  witch  of 
Endor  is  an  instance  that  my  argument  is  correct.  The 
witch  was  evidently  an  impostor,  for  she  had  no  expecta- 
tion of  seeing  Samuel,  and  was  frightened  by  the  appari- 
tion she  had  evoked  ;  but  Spiritualism  must  be  a  truth, 
because  it  was  Samuel  himself  who  appeared  and  rebuked 
Saul  for  calling  him  back  to  this  earth.  What  becomes, 
in  the  face  of  this  story,  of  the  impassable  gulf  between 
the  earthly  and  spiritual  spheres  ?  That  atheists  who' be- 
lieve in  nothing  should  not  believe  in  Spiritualism  is  credi- 
ble, natural,  and  consistent.  But  that  Christians  should 
reject  the  theory  is  tantamount  to  acknowledging  that  they 


62  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

found  their  hopes  of  salvation  upon  a  lie.  There  is  no  way 
of  getting  out  of  it.  If  it  be  impossible  that  the  spirits  of 
the  departed  can  communicate  with  men,  the  Bible  must 
be  simply  a  collection  of  fabulous  statements  ;  if  it  be 
wrong  to  speak  with  spirits,  all  the  men  whose  histories 
are  therein  related  were  sinners,  and  the  Almighty  helped 
them  to  sin ;  and  if  all  the  spirits  who  have  been  heard 
and  seen  and  touched  in  modern  times  are  devils  sent  on 
earth  to  lure  us  to  our  destruction,  how  are  we  to  distin- 
guish between  them  and  the  Greatest  Spirit  of  all,  who 
walked  with  mortal  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  garden  of  Eden. 
"  O  !  yes !  "  I  think  I  hear  somebody  cry,  "  but  that  was 
in  the  Bible ;  "  as  if  the  Bible  were  a  period  or  a  place. 
And  did  it  ever  strike  you  that  there  is  something  else 
recorded  in  the  Bible  ?  "  And  He  did  not  many  miracles 
there  because  of  their  unbelie/y  And  yet  Christ  came  to 
call  "  not  the  rigliteous  but  the  sinners  to  repentance." 
Surely,  then,  the  unbelieving  required  the  conviction  of 
the  miracles  more  tlian  those  who  knew  Him  to  be  God. 
Yet  there  He  did  them  not,  because  of  their  unbelief,  be- 
cause their  scepticism  produced  a  condition  in  which 
miracles  could  not  be  wrought.  And  yet  the  nineteenth 
century  is  surprised  because  a  sceptic,  whose  jarring  ele- 
ment upsets  all  union  and  harmony,  is  not  an  acceptable 
addition  to  a  spiritual  meeting,  and  that  the  miracles  of 
the  present — gross  and  feeble,  compared  to  those  of  the 
past,  because  worked  by  grosser  material  though  grosser 
agents — ceased  to  be  manifested  when  his  unbelief  in- 
trudes itself  upon  them. 


THERE   IS   NO   DEATH.  63 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE    STORY    OF   JOHN    POWLES. 

On  the  4th  of  April,  i860,  there  died  in  India  a  young 
officer  in  the  12th  Regiment  M.N.L,  of  the  name  of  John 
Powles.  He  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  first  husband 
for  several  years  before  his  death,  and  had  consequently 
become  intimate  with  me  ;  indeed,  on  several  occasions 
he  shared  our  house  and  lived  with  us  on  the  terms  of  a 
brother.  I  was  very  young  at  that  time  and  susceptible 
to  influence  of  all  sorts — extremely  nervous,  moreover,  on 
the  subject  of  "ghosts,"  and  yet  burning  with  curiosity 
to  learn  something  of  the  other  world — a  topic  which  it  is 
most  difficult  to  induce  anybody  to  discuss  with  you. 
People  will  talk  of  dress,  or  dinner,  or  their  friend's  pri- 
vate affairs — of  anything,  in  fact,  sooner  than  Death  and 
Immortality  and  the  world  to  come  which  we  must  all 
inevitably  enter.  Even  parsons — the  legalized  exponents 
of  what  lies  beyond  the  grave — are  no  exceptions  to  the 
rule.  When  the  bereaved  sufferer  goes  to  them  for  com- 
fort, they  shake  their  heads  and  "  hope  "and  "  trust,"  and 
say  *•  God's  mercy  has  no  limits,"  but  they  cannot  give 
him  one  reasonable  proof  to  rest  upon  that  Death  is  but  a 
name.  John  Powles,  however,  though  a  careless  and  irre- 
ligious man,  liked  to  discuss  the  Unseen,  We  talked 
continually  on  the  subject,  even  when  he  was  apparently 
in  perfect  health,  and  he  often  ended  our  conversation  by 
assuring  me  that  should  he  die  first  (and  he  always  pro- 
phesied truly  that  he  should  not  reach  the  age  of  thirty) 
he  would  (were  such  a  thing  possible)  come  back  to  me. 
I  used  to  laugh  at  the  absurdity  of  the  idea,  and  remind 
him  how  many  friends  had  made  the  same  promise  to  each 
other  and  never  fulfilled  it.  For  though  I  firmly  believed 
that  such  things  had  been,  I  could  not  realize  that  they 
would  ever  happen  to  me,  or  that  I  should  survive 
the  shock  if  they  did.  John  Powles'  death  at  the  last 
was  very  sudden,  although  the  disease  he  died  of  was  of 


64  THERE  IS  NO  DEATIT. 

long  standing.  He  had  been  under  the  doctor's  hands 
for  a  itw  days  when  he  took  an  unexpected  turn  for  tlie 
worse,  and  my  liusband  and  myself,  with  other  friends, 
were  summoned  to  his  bedside  to  say  good-bye  to  him. 
When  I  entered  the  room  he  said  to  me,  "  So  you  see  it 
has  come  at  last.  Don't  forget  what  I  said  to  you  about 
it."  They  were  his  last  intelligible  words  to  me,  tliough 
for  several  hours  he  grasped  my  dress  with  his  hand  to 
prevent  my  leaving  him,  and  became  violent  and  unman- 
ageable if  I  attempted  to  quit  his  side.  During  this  time, 
in  the  intervals  of  his  delirium,  he  kept  on  entreating  me 
to  sing  a  certain  old  ballad,  which  had  always  been  a  great 
favorite  with  him,  entitled  "  Thou  art  gone  from  my  gaze." 
I  am  sure  if  I  sung  t'nat  song  once  during  that  miserable 
day,  I  must  have  sung  it  a  dozen  times.  At  last  our  poor 
friend  fell  into  convulsions  which  recurred  with  little  inter- 
mission until  his  death,  which  took  place  the  same  evening. 

His  death  and  the  manner  of  it  caused  me  a  great  shock. 
He  had  been  a  true  friend  to  my  husband  and  myself  for 
years,  and  we  both  mourned  his  loss  very  sincerely.  That, 
and  other  troubles  combined,  had  a  serious  effect  upon  my 
health,  and  the  doctors  advised  my  immediate  return  to 
England.  When  an  officer  dies  in  India,  it  is  the  custom 
to  sell  all  his  minor  effects  by  auction.  Before  this  took 
place,  my  husband  asked  me  if  there  was  anything  belong- 
ing to  John  Powles  that  I  should  like  to  keep  in  remem- 
brance of  him.  The  choice  I  made  was  a  curious  one.  He 
had  possessed  a  dark  green  silk  necktie,  which  was  a  fav- 
orite of  his,  and  when  it  became  soiled  I  offered  to  turn  it 
for  jiim,  when  it  looked  as  good  as  new.  Whereupon  he 
had  worn  it  so  long  that  it  was  twice  as  dirly  as  before,  so 
I  turned  it  for  him  the  second  time,  much  to  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  regiment.  When  I  was  asked  to  choose  a 
keepsake  of  him,  I  said,  "  Give  me  the  green  tie,"  and  I 
brought  it  to  England  with  me. 

The  voyage  home  was  a  terrible  affair.  I  was  suffering 
mentally  and  physically,  to  such  a  degree  that  I  cannot 
think  of  the  time  without  a  shudder.  John  Powles' death, 
of  course,  added  to  my  distress,  and  during  the  many 
months  that  occupied  a  voyage  "by  long  sea,"  I  hoped 
and  expected  that  his  spirit  would  appear  to  me.  With 
the   very  strong  belief  in  the  possibility  of  the  return  to 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATFT.  65 

earth  of  the  departed — or  rather,  I  should  say,  wiili  my 
strong  belief  in  my  belief — I  lay  awake  night  after  night, 
thinking  to  see  my  lost  friend,  who  had  so  often  promised 
to  come  back  to  me.  I  even  cried  aloud  to  him  to  appear 
and  tell  me  where  he  was,  or  what  he  was  doing,  but  I 
never  heard  or  saw  a  single  thing.  There  was  silence  on 
every  side  of  me.  Ten  days  only  after  I  landed  in  England 
I  was  delivered  of  a  daughter,  and  when  I  had  somewhat 
recovered  my  health  and  spirits — when  I  had  lost  the 
physical  weakness  and  nervous  excitability,  to  which  most 
medical  men  would  have  attributed  any  mysterious  sights 
or  sounds  I  might  have  experienced  before — then  I  com- 
menced to  k7iow  and  io/eel  that  John  Powles  was  with  me 
again.  I  did  not  see  him,  but  I  felt  his  presence.  I  used 
to  lie  awake  at  night,  trembling  under  the  consciousness 
that  he  was  sitting  at  my  bedside,  and  I  had  no  means  of 
penetrating  the  silence  between  us.  Often  I  entreated  him 
to  speak,  but  when  a  low,  hissing  sound  came  close  to  my 
ear,  I  would  scream  with  terror  and  rush  from  my  room. 
All  my  desire  to  see  or  communicate  with  my  lost  friend 
had  deserted  me.  The  very  idea  was  a  terror.  I  was 
horror-struck  to  think  he  had  returned,  and  I  would  neither 
sleep  alone  nor  remain  alone.  I  was  advised  to  try  a 
livelier  place  than  Winchester  (where  I  then  resided),  and 
a  house  was  taken  for  me  at  Sydenham.  But  there,  the 
sense  of  the  presence  of  John  Powles  was  as  keen  as  be- 
fore, and  so,  at  intervals,  I  continued  to  feel  it  for  the 
space  of  several  years — until,  indeed,  I  became  an  inquirer 
into  Spiritualism  as  a  science. 

I  have  related  in  the  chapter  that  contains  an  account 
of  my  first  seance,  that  the  only  face  I  recognized  as  be- 
longing to  me  was  that  of  my  friend  John  Powles,  and 
how  excited  I  became  on  seeing  it.  It  was  that  recognition 
that  brought  back  all  my  old  longing  and  curiosity  to 
communicate  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  Unseen  World. 
As  soon  as  I  commenced  investigations  in  my  home  circle, 
John  Powles  was  the  very  first  spirit  who  spoke  to  me 
through  the  table,  and  from  that  time  until  the  present  I 
have  never  ceased  to  hold  communion  with  him.  He  is 
very  shy,  however,  (as  he  was,  whilst  with  us)  of  convers- 
ing before  strangers,  and  seldom  intimates  his  presence 
except  I  am  alone.     At  such  times,  however,  he  will  talk 


66  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

by  the  hour  of  all  such  topics  as  interested  him  during  his 
earth  life. 

Soon  after  it  became  generally  known  that  I  was 
attending  seances,  I  was  introduced  to  Miss  Showers,  the 
daughter  of  General  Showers  of  the  Bombay  Army.  This 
young  lady,  besides  being  Httle  more  than  a  child — I 
think  she  was  about  sixteen  when  we  met — was  not  a  pro- 
fessional medium.  The  seances  to  which  her  friends  were 
invited  to  witness  the  extraordinary  manifestations  that 
took  place  in  her  ])resence  were  strictly  private.  They 
offered  therefore  an  enormous  advantage  to  investigators, 
as  the  occurrences  were  all  above  suspicion,  whilst  Miss 
Showers  was  good  enough  to  allow  herself  to  be  tested  in 
every  possible  way.  I  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  more 
particularly  to  Miss  Showers'  mediumship  further  on — at 
present,  therefore,  I  will  confine  myself  to  those  occasions 
which  afforded  proofs  of  John  Powles'  presence. 

Mrs.  and  Miss  Showers  were  living  in  apartments  when 
I  visited  them,  and  there  was  no  means  nor  opportunity  of 
deceiving  their  friends,  even  had  they  had  any  object  in 
doing  so.  I  must  add  also,  that  they  knew  nothing  of  my 
Indian  life  nor  experiences,  which  were  things  of  the  past 
long  before  I  met  them.  At  the  first  sitting  Miss  Showers 
gave  me  for  "  spirit  faces,"  she  merely  sat  on  a  chair  behind 
the  window  curtains,  which  were  pinned  together  half-way 
up,  so  as  to  leave  a  V-shaped  opening  at  the  top.  The 
voice  of  "  Peter  "  (Miss  Showers'  principal  control)  kept 
talking  to  us  and  the  medium  from  behind  the  curtains  all 
the  time,  and  making  remarks  on  the  faces  as  they  appeared 
at  the  opening.  Presently  he  said  to  me,  "  Mrs.  Ross- 
Church,  here's  a  fellow  says  his  name  is  Powles,  and  he 
wants  to  speak  to  you,  only  he  doesn't  like  to  show  him- 
self because  he's  not  a  bit  like  what  he  used  to  be."  "  Tell 
him  not  to  mind  that,"  I  answered,  "I  shall  know  him 
under  an}'^  circumstances."  "Well!  if  he  was  anything 
like  that,  he  was  a  beauty,"  exclaimed  Peter  ;  and  pre- 
sently a  face  appeared  which  I  could  not,  by  any  stretch 
of  imagination,  decide  to  resemble  in  the  slightest  degree 
my  old  friend.  It  was  hard,  stiff  and  unlifelike.  After  it 
had  disappeared,  Peter  said,  "  Powles  says  if  you'll  come 
and  sit  with  Rosie  (Miss  Showers)  often,  he'll  look  quite 
like  himself  by-and-by,"  and  of  course  I  was  only  too 
anxious  to  accept  the  invitation. 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  67 

As  I  was  setting  out  another  evening  to  sit  with  Miss 
Showers,  the  thought  suddenly  occurred  to  me  to  put  the 
green  necktie  in  my  pocket.  My  two  daughters  accom- 
panied me  on  that  occasion,  but  I  said  nothing  to  them 
about  the  necktie.  As  soon  as  we  had  commenced,  how- 
ever, Peter  called  out,  "  Now,  Mrs.  Ross-Church,  hand 
over  that  necktie.  Powles  is  coming."  "  What  necktie  ?  " 
I  asked,  and  he  answered,  "  Why  Powles'  necktie,  of 
course,  that  you've  got  in  your  pocket.  He  wants  you  to 
put  it  round  his  neck."  The  assembled  party  looked  at  me 
inquisitively  as  I  produced  the  tie.  The  face  of  John 
Powles  appeared,  very  different  from  the  time  before,  as  he 
had  his  own  features  ahd  complexion,  but  his  hair  and 
beard  (which  were  auburn  during  life)  appeared  phos- 
phoric, as  though  made  of  living  fire.  I  mounted  on  a  chair 
and  tied  the  necktie  round  his  throat,  and  asked  him  if  he 
would  kiss  me.  He  shook  his  head.  Peter  called  out, 
"  Give  him  your  hand."  I  did  so,  and  as  he  kissed  it,  his 
moustaches  burned  me.  I  cannot  account  for  it.  I  can 
only  relate  the  fact.  After  which  he  disappeared  with 
the  necktie,  which  I  have  never  seen  since,  though  we 
searched  the  little  room  for  it  thoroughly. 

The  next  thing  I  have  to  relate  about  John  Powles  is  so 
startling  that  I  dread  the  criticism  it  will  evoke  ;  but  if  I 
had  not  startling  stories  to  tell,  I  should  not  consider  them 
worth  writing  down.  I  left  my  house  in  Bayswater  one 
Sunday  evening  to  dine  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Neville 
in  Regent's  Park  Terrace,  to  have  a  j-^f^;/^.?  afterwards  with 
Miss  Showers.  There  was  a  large  company  present,  and 
I  was  placed  next  to  Miss  Showers  at  table.  During  din- 
ner she  told  me  complainingly  that  her  mother  had  gone  to 
Norwood  to  spend  the  night,  and  she  (Rosie)  was  afraid 
of  sleeping  alone,  as  the  spirits  worried  her  so.  In  a 
moment  it  flashed  across  me  to  ask  her  to  return  to  Bays- 
water  and  sleep  with  me,  for  I  was  most  desirous  of  test- 
ing her  powers  when  we  were  alone  together.  Miss  Showers 
accepted  my  invitation,  and  we  arranged  that  she  should 
go  home  with  me.  After  dinner,  the  guests  sat  for  a  searice, 
but  to  everybody's  surprise  and  disappointment,  nothing 
occurred.  It  was  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  Miss 
Showers  and  I  entered  a  cab  to  return  to  Bayswater.  We 
had  hardly  started  when  we  were  greeted  with  a  loud  peal 
of  laughter  close  to  our  ears.  "  What's  the  matter,  Peter  ?  " 


68  THERE  IS  NO   DEATH, 

demanded  Miss  Showers.  "  I  can't  help  laiigliing,"  he 
replied,  "  to  think  of  their  faces  when  no  one  appeared  ! 
Did  'you  suppose  I  was  going  to  let  you  waste  all  your 
power  with  them,  when  I  knew  I  was  going  home  with  you 
and  Mrs,  Ross-Church?  I  mean  to  show  you  what  a  real 
good  sea/ice  is  to-niglit." 

When  we  reached  home  I  let  myself  in  with  a  latchkey. 
The  house  was  full,  for  I  had  seven  children,  four  servants, 
and  a  married  sister  staying  with  me ;  but  they  were  all  in 
bed  and  asleep.  It  was  cold  weather,  and  when  I  took  Miss 
Showers  into  my  bedroom  a  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate. 
My  sister  was  occupying  a  room  which  opened  into  mine  ; 
but  I  locked  her  door  and  my  own,  and  put  the  keys  under 
my  pillow.  Miss  Showers  and  I  then  undressed  and  got 
into  bed.  When  we  had  extinguished  the  gas,  we  found 
the  room  was,  comparatively  speaking,  light,  for  I  had 
stirred  the  fire  into  a  blaze,  and  a  street  lamp  just  opposite 
the  window  threw  bars  of  light  through  the  Venetian  blinds, 
right  across  the  ceiling.  As  soon  as  Miss  Showers  had 
settled  herself  in  bed,  she  said,  "  I  wonder  what  Peter  is 
going  to  do,"  and  I  replied,  "  I  hope  he  won't  strip  off  the 
bed-clothes."  We  were  lying  under  four  blankets,  a 
counterpane,  and  an  eider-down  duvet,  and  as  I  spoke,  the 
whole  mass  rose  in  the  air,  and  fell  over  the  end  of  the  bed, 
leaving  us  quite  unprotected.  We  got  up,  lit  a  candle,  and 
made  the  bed  again,  tucking  the  clothes  well  in  all  round, 
but  the  minute  we  laid  down  the  same  thing  was  repeated. 
We  were  rather  cross  the  second  time,  and  abused  Peter 
for  being  so  disagreeable,  upon  which  the  voice  declared 
he  wouldn't  do  it  any  more,  but  we  shouldn't  have  pro- 
voked him  to  try.  I  said,  "  You  had  much  better  shew 
yourself  to  us,  Peter.  That  is  what  I  want  you  to  do." 
He  replied,  "  Here  I  am,  my  dear,  close  to  you  !  "  I  turned 
my  head,  and  there  stood  a  dark  figure  beside  the  bed, 
whilst  another  could  be  plainly  distinguished  walking  about 
the  room.  I  said,  "  I  can't  see  your  face,"  and  he  replied, 
*'  I'll  come  nearer  to  you  !  "  Upon  this  the  figure  rose  in 
the  air  until  it  hung  suspended,  face  downward,  over  the 
bed.  In  this  position  it  looked  like  a  huge  bat  with  out- 
spread wings.  It  was  still  indistinct,  except  as  to  sub- 
stance, but  Peter  said  we  had  exhausted  all  the  phosphorus 
in  our  bodies  by  the  long  evening  we  had  spent,  and  left 
him  nothing  to  light  himself  up  with.     After  a  while  he 


THERE   IS    NO    DEATH.  69 

lowered  himself  on  to  the  bed,  and  lay  between  Miss 
Showers  and  myself  on  the  outside  of  the  duvet.  To  this 
we  greatly  objected,  as  he  was  very  heavy  and  took  up  a 
great  deal  of  room  ;  but  it  was  some  time  before  he  would 
go  away. 

During  this  manifestation,  the  other  spirit,  whom  Peter 
called  the  "  Pope,"  kept  walking  about  and  touching  every- 
thing in  the  room,  which  was  full  of  ornaments  ;  and  Peter 
called  out  several  times,  "Take  care.  Pope  !  take  care! 
Don't  break  Mrs.  Ross-Church's  things."  The  two  made 
so  much  noise  that  they  waked  my  sister  in  the  adjoining 
room,  and  she  knocked  at  the  door,  asking  in  an  alarmed 
voice,  "  Florence  !  whom  have  you  there  ?  You  will  wake 
the  whole  house."  Wlien  I  replied,  "  Never  mind,  it's  only 
spirits,"  she  gave  one  fell  shriek  and  dived  under  her  bed- 
clothes. She  maintains  to  this  day  that  she  fully  believed 
the  steps  and  voices  to  be  human.  At  last  the  manifesta- 
tions became  so  rapid,  as  many  as  eight  and  ten  hands 
touching  us  at  once,  that  I  asked  Miss  Showers  if  she 
would  mind  my  tying  hers  together.  She  was  very  amiable 
and  consented  willingly.  I  therefore  got  out  of  bed  again, 
and  having  securely  fastened  her  hands  in  the  sleeves  of 
the  nightdress  she  wore,  I  sewed  them  with  needle  and 
thread  to  the  mattress.  Miss  Showers  then  said  she  felt 
sleepy,  and  with  her  back  to  me — a  position  she  was 
obliged  to  maintain  on  account  of  her  hands  being  sewn 
down — she  apparently  dropt  off  to  sleep,  though  I  knew 
subsequently  s'ne  was  in  a  trance. 

For  some  time  afterwards  nothing  occurred,  the  figures 
had  disappeared,  the  voices  ceased,  and  I  thought  the 
seaJice  was  over.  Presently,  however,  I  felt  a  hand  laid  on 
my  head  and  the  fingers  began  to  gently  stroke  and  pull 
the  short  curls  upon  my  forehead.  I  whispered,  "Who  is 
this  ?  "  and  the  answer  came  back,  "  Don't  you  know  me  ? 
I  am  Powles  !  At  last — at  last — after  a  silence  of  ten  years 
I  see  you  and  speak  with  you  again,  face  to  face."  "  How 
can  I  tell  this  is  your  hand  ?  "  I  said.  "  Peter  might  be 
materializing  a  hand  in  order  to  deceive  me."  The  hand 
immediately  left  my  head  and  the  back  of  it  passed  over  my 
mouth,  when  I  felt  it  was  covered  with  short  hair.  I  then 
remembered  how  hairy  John  Powles'  hands  had  become 
from  exposure  to  the  Indian  sun  whilst  shooting,  and  how 
I  had  nicknamed  him  "  Esau  "  in  consequence.     I  recol- 


70  THERE   IS   NO   DEATH. 

lected  also  that  he  had  dislocated  the  left  wrist  with  a 
cricket  ball.  "  Let  me  feel  your  wrist,"  I  said,  and  my 
hand  was  at  once  placed  on  the  enlarged  bone.  "  I  want 
to  trace  your  hand  to  where  it  springs  from,"  I  next  sug- 
gested ;  and  on  receiving  permission  I  felt  from  the  fingers 
and  wrist  to  the  elbow  and  shoulder,  where  it  terminated  in 
the  middle  of  Miss  Showers'  back.  Still  I  was  not  quite 
satisfied,  for  I  used  to  find  it  very  hard  to  believe  in  the 
identity  of  a  person  I  had  cared  for.  I  was  so  terribly 
afraid  of  being  deceived.  "  I  want  to  see  your  face,"  I 
continued.  "  I  cannot  show  you  my  face  to-night,"  the 
voice  replied,  "  but  you  shall  feel  it;  "  and  the  face,  with 
beard  and  moustaches,  was  laid  for  a  moment  against  my 
own.  Then  the  hand  was  replaced  on  my  hair,  and  whilst 
it  kept  on  pulling  and  stroking  my  curls,  John  Powles' 
own  voice  spoke  to  me  of  everything  that  had  occurred  of 
importance  when  he  and  I  were  friends  on  earth.  Fancy, 
two  people  who  were  intimately  associated  for  years,  meet- 
ing alone  after  a  long  and  painful  separation,  think  of  all 
the  private  things  they  would  talk  about  together,  and  you 
will  understand  why  I  cannot  write  down  the  conversation 
that  took  place  between  us  that  night  here.  In  order  to 
convince  me  of  his  identity,  John  Powles  spoke  of  all  the 
troubles  I  had  passed  through  and  was  then  enduring — he 
mentioned  scenes,  both  sad  and  merry,  which  we  had 
witnessed  together ;  he  recalled  incidents  which  had 
slipped  ray  memory,  and  named  places  and  people  known 
only  to  ourselves.  Had  I  been  a  disbeliever  in  Spiritualism, 
that  night  must  have  made  a  convert  of  me.  Whilst  the 
voice,  in  the  well-remembered  tones  of  my  old  friend,  was 
speaking,  and  his  hand  wandered  through  my  hair.  Miss 
Showers  continued  to  sleep,  or  to  appear  to  sleep,  with  her 
back  towards  me,  and  her  hands  sewn  into  her  nightdress 
sleeves,  and  the  sleeves  sewn  down  to  the  bed.  But  had  she 
been  wide  awake  and  with  both  hands  free,  she  could  not 
have  spoken  to  me  in  John  Powles'  unforgotten  voice  of 
things  that  had  occurred  when  she  was  an  infant  and  thou- 
sands of  miles  away.  And  I  affirm  that  the  voice  spoke  to 
me  of  things  that  no  one  but  John  Powles  could  possibly 
have  known.  He  did  not  fail  to  remind  me  of  the  promise 
he  had  made,  and  the  many  times  he  had  tried  to  fulfil  it 
before,  and  he  assured  me  he  should  be  constantly  with 
me  from  that  time.    It  was  daylight  before  the  voice  ceased 


THERE  IS  XO  DEATH.  7I 

speaking,  and  then  both  Miss  Showers  and  I  were  so 
exhausted,  we  could  hardly  raise  our  heads  from  the  pil- 
lows. I  must  not  forget  to  add  tliat  when  we  did  open 
our  eyes  again  upon  this  work-a-day  world,  we  found  there 
was  hardly  an  article  in  the  room  that  had  not  changed 
places.  The  pictures  were  all  turned  with  their  faces  to  the 
wall — the  crockery  from  the  washstand  was  piled  in  the 
fender — the  ornaments  from  the  mantel-piece  were  on  the 
dressing-table— in  fact,  the  whole  room  was  topsy-turvy. 

When  Mr.  William  Fletcher  gave  his  first  lecture  in  Eng- 
land, in  the  Steinway  Hall,  my  husband,  Colonel  Lean,  and 
I,  went  to  hear  him.  We  had  never  seen  Mr.  Fletcher 
before,  nor  any  of  his  family,  nor  did  he  know  we  were 
amongst  the  audience.  Our  first  view  of  him  was  when  he 
stepped  upon  the  platform,  and  we  were  seated  quite  in  the 
body  of  the  hall,  which  was  full.  It  was  Mr.  Fletcher's 
custom,  after  his  lecture  was  concluded,  to  describe  such 
visions  as  were  presented  to  him,  and  he  only  asked  in 
return  that  if  the  people  and  places  were  recognized,  those 
who  recognized  them  would  be  brave  enough  to  say  so, 
for  the  sake  of  the  audience  and  himself.  I  can  understand 
that  strangers  who  went  there  and  heard  nothing  that  con- 
cerned themselves  would  be  very  apt  to  imagine  it  was  all 
humbug,  and  that  those  who  claimed  a  knowledge  of  the 
visions  were  simply  confederates  of  Mr.  Fletcher.  But 
there  is  nothing  more  true  than  that  circumstances  alter 
cases.  I  entered  Steinway  Hall  as  a  perfect  stranger,  and 
as  a  press-writer,  quite  prepared  to  expose  trickery  if  I 
detected  it.  And  this  is  what  I  heard.  After  Mr.  Fletcher 
had  described  several  persons  and  scenes  unknown  to  me, 
he  took  out  a  handkerchief  and  began  to  wipe  his  face,  as 
though  he  were  very  warm. 

"  I  am  no  longer  in  England,  now,"  he  said.  "  The 
scene  has  quite  changed,  and  I  am  taken  over  the  sea, 
thousands  of  miles  away,  and  I  am  in  a  chamber  with  all 
the  doors  and  windows  open.  Oh  !  how  hot  it  is  !  I  think 
I  am  somewhere  in  the  tropics.  O  !  I  see  why  I  have  been 
brought  here  !  It  is  to  see  a  young  man  die  !  This  is  a 
death  chamber.  He  is  lying  on  a  bed.  He  looks  very 
pale,  and  he  is  very  near  death,  but  he  has  only  been  ill  a 
short  time.  His  hair  is  a  kind  of  golden  chestnut  color, 
and  he  has  blue  eyes.  He  is  an  Englishman,  and  I  can 
see  the  letter  '  P  '  above  his  head.  He  has  not  been  happy 


72  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

on  earth,  and  he  is  quite  content  to  die.  He  pushes  all 
the  influences  that  are  round  his  bed  away  from  him.  Now 
I  see  a  lady  come  and  sit  down  beside  him.  He  holds  her 
hand,  and  appears  to  ask  her  to  do  something,  and  I  hear 
a  strain  of  sweet  music.  It  is  a  song  he  has  heard  in 
happier  limes,  and  on  the  breath  of  it  his  spirit  passes  away. 
It  is  to  this  lady  he  seems  to  come  now.  She  is  sitting  on 
my  left  about  half  way  down  the  hall.  A  little  girl,  with 
her  hands  full  of  blue  flowers,  points  her  out  to  me.  The 
little  girl  holds  up  the  flowers,  and  I  see  they  are  woven 
into  a  resemblance  of  the  letter  F.  She  tells  me  that  is  the 
initial  letter  of  her  mother's  name  and  her  own.  And  I  see 
this  message  written. 

"  *  To  my  dearest  friend,  for  such  you  ever  were  to  me 
from  the  beginning.  I  have  been  with  you  through  all 
your  time  of  trial  and  sorrow,  and  I  am  rejoiced  to  see  that 
a  happier  era  is  beginning  for  you.  I  am  always  near  you. 
The  darkness  is  fast  rolling  away,  and  happiness  will  suc- 
ceed it.  Pray  for  me,  and  I  shall  be  near  you  in  your 
prayers.  I  pray  God  to  bless  you  and  to  bless  me,  and  to 
bring  us  together  again  in  the  summer  land.' 

"  And  I  see  the  spirit  pointing  with  his  hand  far  away, 
as  though  to  intimate  that  the  happiness  he  speaks  of  is 
only  the  beginning  of  some  that  will  extend  to  a  long  dis- 
tance of  time.  I  see  this  scene  more  plainlv  than  any  I 
have  ever  seen  before." 

These  words  were  written  down  at  the  time  they  were 
spoken.  Colonel  Lean  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  very  spot 
indicated  by  Mr.  Fletcher,  and  the  little  girl  with  the  blue 
flowers  was  my  spirit  child,  "  Florence,"  whose  history  I 
shall  give  in  the  next  chapter.  But  my  communications 
with  John  Powles,  though  very  extraordinary,  were  not 
satisfactory  to  me.  I  am  the  "  Thomas,  surnamed  Didy- 
mus,"  of  the  spiritualistic  world,  who  wants  to  see  and 
touch  and  handle  before  I  can  altogether  believe.  I 
wanted  to  meet  John  Powles  and  talk  with  him  face  to 
face,  and  it  seemed  such  an  impossibility  for  him  to  mate- 
rialize in  the  light  that,  after  his  two  failures  with  Miss 
Showers,  he  refused  to  try.  I  was  always  worrying  him  to 
tell  me  if  we  should  meet  in  the  body  before  I  left  this 
world,  and  his  answer  was  always,  "  Yes  !  but  not  just 
yet !  "  I  had  no  idea  then  that  I  should  have  to  cross  the 
Atlantic  before  I  saw  my  dear  old  friend  again. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  73 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MY  SPIRIT  CHILD. 

The  same  year  that  John  Powles  died,  i860,  I  passed 
through  the  greatest  trouble  of  my  hfe.  It  is  quite  un- 
necessary to  my  narrative  to  relate  what  thai  trouble  was, 
nor  how  it  affected  me,  but  I  suffered  terribly  both  in  mind 
and  body,  and  it  was  chiefly  for  this  reason  that  the  medi- 
cal men  advised  my  return  to  England,  which  I  reached  on 
the  14th  of  December,  and  on  the  30th  of  the  same  month 
a  daughter  was  born  to  me,  who  survivedher  birth  for  only 
ten  days.  The  child  was  born  with  a  most  peculiar 
blemish,  which  it  is  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  my  argu- 
ment to  describe.  On  the  left  side  of  the  upper  lip  was  a 
mark  as  though  a  semi-circular  piece  of  flesh  had  been  cut 
out  by  a  bullet-mould,  which  exposed  part  of  the  gum. 
The  swallow  also  had  been  submerged  in  the  gullet,  so  that 
she  had  for  the  short  period  of  her  earthly  existence  to  be 
fed  by  artificial  means,  and  the  jaw  itself  had  been  so 
twisted  that  could  she  have  lived  to  cut  her  teeth,  the 
double  ones  would  have  been  in  front.  This  blemish  was 
considered  to  be  of  so  remarkable  a  type  that  Dr.  Frede- 
rick Butler  of  Winchester,  who  attended  me,  invited  several 
other  medical  men,  from  Southampton  and  other  places,  to 
examine  the  infant  with  him,  and  they  all  agreed  that  a 
similar  case  had  never  come  tctider  their  notice  before.  This 
is  a  very  important  factor  in  my  narrative.  I  was  closely 
catechized  as  to  whether  I  had  suffered  any  physical  or 
mental  shock,  that  should  account  for  the  injury  to  my 
child,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  trouble  I  had  experienced 
was  suflScient  to  produce  it.  The  case,  under  feigned  names, 
was  fully  reported  in  the  Lancet  as  something  quite  out  of 
the  common  way.  My  little  child,  who  was  baptized  by  the 
name  of  '"'Florence,"  lingered  until  the  loth  of  January, 
186 1,  and  then  passed  quietly  away,  and  when  my  first 
natural  disappointment  was  over  I  ceased  to  think  of  her 
except  as  of  something  which    "  might  have  been,"  but 


74  THERE    IS   NO    DEATH. 

never  would  be  again.  In  this  world  of  misery,  the  loss  of 
an  infant  is  soon  swallowed  up  in  more  active  trouble. 
Still  I  never  quite  forgot  my  poor  baby,  perhaps  because  at 
tliat  time  she  was  Iiappily  the  "  one  dead  Iamb  "  of  my  little 
flock.  In  recounting  the  events  of  my  first  seance  with  Mrs. 
Holmes,  I  have  mentioned  how  a  young  girl  much  muffled 
up  about  the  mouth  and  chin  appeared,  and  intimated  that 
she  came  for  me,  altliough  I  could  not  recognize  her.  I  was 
so  ignorant  of  the  life  beyond  the  grave  at  that  period,  that 
it  never  struck  me  that  the  baby  who  had  left  me  at  ten 
days  old  had  been  growing  since  our  separation,  until  she 
had  reached  the  age  of  ten  years.  I  could  not  inter])iet 
Longfellow  (whom  I  consider  one  of  the  sublimest  spirit- 
ualists of  the  age)  as  I  can  now. 

•'  Day  after  day  we  think  what  she  is  doing, 
In  those  bright  realms  of  air  : 
Year  after  year,  her  tender  steps  pursuing. 
Behold  her  grown  more  fair. 

*'  Not  as  a  child  shall  we  again  behold  her  : 

For  when,  with  rapture  wild, 
In  our  embraces  we  again  enfold  her. 

She  will  not  be  a  child  ; 
But  a  fair  maiden  in  her  father's  mansion. 

Clothed  with  celestial  grace. 
And  beautiful  with  all  the  soul's  expansion. 

Shall  we  behold  her  face  !  '■■ 


The  first  seance  made  such  an  impression  on  my  mind 
that  two  nights  afterwards  I  again  presented  luysclf  (this 
time  alone)  at  Mrs.  Holmes'  rooms  to  attend  another.  It 
was  a  very  different  circle  on  the  second  occasion.  There 
were  about  thirty  people  present,  all  strangers  to  each 
other,  and  the  manifestations  were  proportionately  ordi- 
nary. Another  professional  medium,  a  Mrs.  Davenport, 
was  present,  as  one  of  her  controls,  whom  she  called 
"  Bell,"  had  promised,  if  possible,  to  show  her  face  to  her. 
As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  first  spirit  face  appeared  (which 
was  that  of  the  same  little  girl  that  I  had  seen  before), 
Mrs.  Davenport  exclaimed,  "  There's  '  Bell,'  "  "  Why  !  " 
I  said,  •'  that's  the  little  nun  we  saw  on  Monday."  "  O  ! 
no!  that's  my  'Bell,'"  persisted  Mrs.  Davenport.  But 
Mrs.   Holmes   took  my  side,  and  was  positive  the  spirit 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  75 

came  for  me.  She  told  me  she  had  been  trying  to  com- 
municate with  her  since  the  previous  seance.  "  I  know 
she  is  nearly  connected  with  you,"  she  said.  "  Have  you 
never  lost  a  relation  of  her  age?  ""  "  Never  /"  I  replied  ; 
and  at  that  declaration  the  little  spirit  moved  away,  sor- 
rowfully as  before. 

A  few  weeks  after  I  received  an  invitation  from  Mr. 
Henry  Dunphy  (the  gentleman  who  had  introduced  me  to 
Mrs.  Holmes)  to  attend  a  private  seance,  given  at  his  own 
house  in  Upper  Gloucester  Place,  by  the  well-known 
medium  Florence  Cook.  The  double  drawing-rooms  were 
divided  by  velvet  curtains,  behind  which  Miss  Cook  was 
seated  in  an  arm-chair,  the  curtains  being  pinned  together 
half-way  up,  leaving  a  large  aperture  in  the  shape  of  a  V. 
Being  a  complete  stranger  to  Miss  Cook,  I  was  surprised 
to  hear  the  voice  of  her  control  direct  that  /  should  stand 
by  the  curtains  and  hold  the  lower  parts  together  whilst 
the  forms  apjieared  above,  lest  the  pins  should  give  way, 
and  necessarily  from  my  position  I  could  hear  every  word 
that  passed  between  Miss  Cook  and  her  guide.  The  first 
face  that  showed  itself  was  that  of  a  man  unknown  to  me  ; 
then  ensued  a  kind  of  frightened  colloquy  between  the 
medium  and  her  control.  "  Take  it  away.  Go  away  ! 
I  don't  like  you.  Don't  touch  me — you  frighten  me  !  Go 
away  !  "  I  heard  Miss  Cook  exclaim,  and  then  her  guide's 
voice  interposed  itself,  "  Don't  be  silly,  Florrie.  Don't 
be  unkind.  It  won't  hurt  you,"  etc.,  and  immediately 
afterwards  the  same  little  girl  I  had  seen  at  Mrs.  Holmes' 
rose  to  view  at  the  aperture  of  the  curtains,  muffled  up  as 
before,  but  smiling  with  her  eyes  at  me.  I  directed  the 
attention  of  the  company  to  her,  calHng  her  again  my 
"little  nun."  I  was  surprised,  however,  at  the  evident 
distaste  Miss  Cook  had  displayed  towards  the  spirit,  and 
when  the  seance  was  concluded  and  she  had  regained  her 
normal  condition,  I  asked  her  if  she  could  recall  the  faces 
she  saw  under  trance.  "Sometimes,"  she  replied.  I  told 
her  of  the  "  little  nun,"  and  demanded  the  reason  of  her 
apparent  dread  of  her.  "  I  can  hardly  tell  you,"  said  Miss 
Cook  ;  "  I  don't  know  anything  about  her.  She  is  quite 
a  stranger  to  me,  but  her  face  is  not  fully  developed,  I 
think.  There  is  sovicthing  wrong  about  her  mouth.  She 
frightens  me." 

This  remark,  though  made  with  the  utmost  carelej^ness, 
set  me  thinking,  and  after  I  had  returned  home,  I  Wfote  to 


76  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

Miss  Cook,  asking  her  to  inquire  of  her  guides  who  the 
little  spirit  was. 

She  replied  as  follows  : 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Ross-Church,  I  have  asked  '  Katie  King,' 
but  she  cannot  tell  me  anything  further  about  the  spirit 
that  came  through  me  the  other  evening  than  that  she  is  a 
young  girl  closely  connected  with  yourself." 

I  was  not,  however,  yet  convinced  of  the  spirit's  iden- 
tity, although  "John  Powles  "  constantly  assured  me  that 
it  was  my  child.  I  tried  hard  to  communicate  with  her  at 
home,  but  without  success.  I  find  in  the  memoranda  I 
kept  of  our  private  seances  at  that  period  several  messages 
from  "  Powles  "  referring  to  "  Florence."  In  one  he  says, 
"  Your  child's  want  of  power  to  communicate  with  you  is 
not  because  she  is  too  pure,  but  because  she  is  too  weak. 
She  will  speak  to  you  some  day.  She  is  not  in  heaven." 
This  last  assertion,  knowing  so  little  as  I  did  of  a  future 
state,  both  puzzled  and  grieved  me.  I  could  not  believe 
that  an  innocent  infant  was  not  in  the  Beatific  Presence — 
yet  I  could  not  understand  what  motive  my  friend  could 
have  in  leading  me  astray.  I  had  yet  to  learn  that  once 
received  into  Heaven  no  spirit  could  return  to  earth,  and 
that  a  spirit  may  have  a  training  to  undergo,  even  though 
it  has  never  committed  a  mortal  sin.  A  further  proof, 
however,  that  my  dead  child  had  never  died  was  to  reach 
me  from  a  quarter  where  I  least  expected  it.  I  was  editor 
of  the  magazine  London  Society  at  that  time,  and  amongst 
my  contributors  was  Dr.  Keningale  Cook,  who  had  mar- 
ried Mabel  Collins,  the  now  well-known  writer  of  spiritual- 
istic novels.  One  day  Dr.  Cook  brought  me  an  invitation 
from  his  wife  (whom  I  had  never  met)  to  spend  Saturday 
to  Monday  with  them  in  their  cottage  at  Redhill,  and  I  ac- 
cepted it,  knowing  nothing  of  the  procHvities  of  either  of 
them,  and  they  knowing  as  little  of  my  private  history  as 
I  did  of  theirs.  And  I  must  take  this  opportunity  to  ob- 
serve that,  at  this  period,  I  had  never  made  my  lost  child 
the  subject  of  conversation  even  with  my  most  intimate 
friends.  The  memory  of  her  life  and  death,  and  the  trou- 
bles that  caused  it,  was  not  a  happy  one,  and  of  no  interest 
to  any  but  myself.  So  little,  therefore,  had  it  been  dis- 
cussed amongst  us  that  until  "  Florence  "  reappeared  to 
revive  the  topic,  my  elder  children  were  ignorant  that 
their  sister  had  been  marked  in  any  way  differently  from 


THERE    IS  NO   DEATH.  77 

themselves.  It  may,  therefore,  be  supposed  how  unlikely 
it  was  tliat  utter  strangers  and  public  media  should  have 
gained  any  inkling  of  the  matter.  I  went  down  to  Redhill, 
and  as  I  was  sitting  with  the  Keningale  Cooks  after  dinner, 
the  subject  of  Spiritualism  came  on  the  tapis,  and  I  was 
informed  that  the  wife  was  a  powerful  trance  medium, 
which  much  interested  me,  as  I  had  not,  at  that  period, 
had  any  experience  of  her  particular  class  of  mediumship. 
In  the  evening  we  "  sat  "  together,  and  Mrs.  Cook  having 
become  entranced,  her  husband  took  shorthand  notes  of 
her  utterances.  Several  old  friends  of  their  family  spoke 
through  her,  and  I  was  listening  to  them  in  the  listless 
manner  in  which  we  hear  the  conversation  of  strangers, 
when  my  attention  was  aroused  by  the  medium  suddenly 
leaving  her  seat,  and  falling  on  her  knees  before  me,  kiss- 
ing my  hands  and  face,  and  sobbing  violently  the  while. 
I  waited  in  expectation  of  hearing  who  this  might  be,  when 
the  manifestations  as  suddenly  ceased,  the  medium  re- 
turned to  her  seat,  and  the  voice  of  one  of  her  guides  said 
that  the  spirit  was  unable  to  speak  through  excess  of  emo- 
tion, but  would  try  again  later  in  the  evening.  I  had  almost 
forgotten  the  circumstance  in  listening  to  other  communi- 
cations, when  I  was  startled  by  hearing  the  word 
^^  Mother  I"  sighed  rather  than  spoken.  I  was  about  to 
make  some  excited  reply,  when  the  medium  raised  her 
hand  to  enjoin  silence,  and  the  following  communication 
was  taken  down  by  Mr.  Cook  as  she  pronounced  the 
words.  The  sentences  in  parentheses  are  my  replies  to 
her. 

"  Mother  !  I  am  '  Florence.'  I  must  be  very  quiet.  I 
want  to  feel  I  have  a  mother  still.  I  am  so  lonely.  Why 
should  I  be  so  ?  I  cannot  speak  well.  I  want  to  be  like 
one  of  you.  I  want  to  feel  I  have  a  mother  and  sisters. 
I  am  so  far  away  from  you  all  now." 

("  But  I  always  think  of  you,  my  dear  dead  baby.") 
"  That's  just  it — your  baby.  But  I'm  not  a  baby  now. 
I  shall  get  nearer.  They  tell  me  I  shall.  I  do  not  know 
if  I  can  come  when  you  are  alone.  It's  all  so  dark.  I 
know  you  are  there,  but  ji?  dimly.  I've  grown  all  by  7ny- 
self.  I'm  not  really  unhappy,  but  I  want  to  get  nearer 
you.  I  know  you  think  of  me,  but  you  think  of  me  as  a 
baby.  You  don't  know  me  as  I  am.  You've  seen  me, 
because  in  my  love  I  have  forced  myself  upon  you.     I've 


78  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

not  been  amongst  the  flowers  yet,  but  I  shall  be,  very  soon 
now;  but  I  want  my  tnother  to  take  me  there.  AH  has 
been  given  me  that  can  be  given  me,  but  I  cannot  receive 
it,  except  in  so  far " 

Here  she  seemed  unable  to  express  herself. 

("  Did  the  trouble  I  had  before  your  birth  affect  your 
spirit,  Florence?  ") 

"  Only  as  things  cause  each  other  ;  I  was  with  you, 
mother,  all  through  that  trouble.  I  should  be  nearer  to 
you,  than  any  child  you  have,  if  I  could  only  get  close  to 
you." 

("  I  can't  bear  to  hear  you  speak  so  sadly,  dear.  I  have 
always  believed  that^y^?/,  at  least,  were  happy  in  Heaven.") 

"  I  am  not  in  Heaven  !  But  there  will  come  a  day, 
mother — I  can  laugh  when  I  say  it — when  we  shall  go  to 
heaven  together  and  pick  blue  flowers — blue  flowers.  They 
are  so  good  to  me  here,  but  if  your  eye  cannot  bear  the 
daylight  you  cannot  see  the  buttercups  and  daisies." 

I  did  not  learn  till  afterwards  that  in  the  spiritual  lan- 
guage blue  flowers  are  typical  of  happiness.  The  next 
question  I  asked  her  was  if  she  thought  she  could  write 
through  me. 

"  I  don't  seem  able  to  write  through  you,  but  why,  I 
know  not," 

("  Do  you  know  your  sisters,  Eva  and  Ethel  ?  ") 

"  No  I  no  !  "  in  a  weary  voice.  "  The  link  of  sisterhood 
is  only  through  the  mother.  That  kind  of  sisterhood  does 
not  last,  because  there  is  a  higher." 

("  Do  you  ever  see  your  father?  ") 

"  No  !  he  is  far,  far  away.  I  went  once,  not  more. 
Mother,  dear,  he'll  love  me  when  he  comes  here.  They've 
told  me  so,  and  they  always  tell  truth  here  !  I  am  but  a 
child,  yet  not  so  very  little.  I  seem  composed  of  two 
things — a  child  in  ignorance  and  a  woman  in  years.  Why 
can't  I  speak  at  other  places  ?  \  have  wished  and  tried  ! 
I've  come  very  near,  but  it  seems  so  easy  to  speak  now. 
This  medium  seems  so  different." 

("  I  wish  you  could  come  to  me  when  I  am  alone, 
Florence.") 

"  You  shall  know  me  !  I  will  come,  mother,  dear.  I 
shall  always  be  able  to  come  here.  I  do  come  to  you,  but 
not  in  the  same  way." 

She  spoke  in  such  a  plaintive,  melancholy  voice  that  Mrs. 
Cook,  thinking  she  would  depress  my  spirits,  said,  "  Don't 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  79 

make  your  stale  out  to  be  sadder  than  it  really  is."  Her 
reply  was  very  remarkable. 

"  T  am,  as  I  am  !  Friend  !  when  you  come  here,  if  you 
find  that  sadness  is,  you  will  not  be  able  to  alter  it  by 
plunging  into  material  pleasures.  Our  sadness  makes  the 
world  we  live  in.  It  is  not  deeds  that  make  us  wrong. 
It  is  the  state  in  which  ^ue  were  born.  Mother  I  you  say  I 
died  sinless.  That  is  nothing.  I  was  born  ///  a  state. 
Had  I  lived,  I  should  have  caused  you  more  pain  than  you 
can  know.  I  am  better  here.  I  was  not  fit  to  battle  with 
the  world,  and  they  took  me  from  it.  Mother  !  you  won't 
let  this  make  you  sad.     You  must  not." 

("  What  can  I  do  to  bring  you  nearer  to  me  ?  ") 

"  I  don't  know  what  will  bring  me  nearer,  but  I'm  helped 
already  by  just  talking  to  you.  There's  a  ladder  of  bright- 
ness— every  step.  I  believe  I've  gained  just  one  step  now. 
O  !  the  Divine  teachings  are  so  mysterious.  Mother!  does 
it  seem  strange  to  you  to  hear  your  'baby  '  say  things  as  if 
she  knew  them  ?     I'm  going  now.     Good-bye  1  " 

And  so  "  Florence  "  went.  The  next  voice  that  spoke 
was  that  of  a  guide  of  the  medium,  and  I  asked  her  for  a 
personal  description  of  my  daughter  as  she  then  appeared. 
She  replied,  "  Her  face  is  downcast.  We  have  tried  to 
cheer  her,  but  she  is  very  sad.  It  is  the  state  in  which  she 
was  borfi.  Every  physical  deformity  is  the  mark  of  a  con- 
dition. A  weak  body  is  not  necessarily  the  mark  of  a 
weak  spirit,  but  the  prison  of  it,  because  the  spirit  might 
be  too  passionate  otherwise.  You  cannot  judge  in  what 
way  the  mind  is  deformed  because  the  body  is  deformed. 
It  does  not  follow  that  a  canker  in  the  body  is  a  canker  in 
the  mind.  But  the  mind  may  be  too  exuberant — may  need 
a  canker  to  restrain  it." 

I  have  copied  this  conversation,  word  for  word,  from 
the  shorthand  notes  taken  at  the  time  of  utterance  ;  and 
when  it  is  remembered  that  neither  Mrs.  Keningale  Cook 
nor  her  husband  knew  that  I  had  lost  a  child — that  they 
had  never  been  in  my  house  nor  associated  with  any  of 
my  friends — it  will  at  least  be  acknowledged,  even  by  the 
most  sceptical,  that  it  was  a  very  remarkable  coincidence 
that  I  sliould  receive  such  a  communication  from  the  lips 
of  a  perfect  stranger.  Only  once  after  this  did  "  Florence  " 
communicate  with  me  tlirough  the  same  source.  .She  found 
congenial  media  nearer  home,  and  naturally  availed  herself 


8o  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

of  them.  But  the  second  occasion  was  ahnost  more  con- 
vincing than  the  first.  I  went  one  afternoon  to  consult 
my  soh'citor  in  the  strictest  confidence  as  to  how  I  should 
act  under  some  very  painful  circumstances,  and  he  gave  me 
his  advice.  The  next  morning  as  I  sat  at  breakfast,  Mrs. 
Cook,  who  was  still  living  at  Redhill,  ran  into  my  room 
with  an  apology  for  the  unceremoniousness  of  her  visit,  on 
the  score  that  she  had  received  a  message  for  me  the  night 
before  which  "Florence"  had  begged  her  to  deliver  with- 
out delay.  The  message  was  to  this  effect  :  "  Tell  my 
mother  that  I  was  with  her  this  afternoon  at  the  lawyer's, 
and  she  is  7iot  to  follow  the  advice  given  her,  as  it  will  do 
harm  instead  of  good."  Mrs.  Cook  added,  "  I  don't  know 
to  what  '  Florence  '  alludes,  of  course,  but  I  thought  it 
best,  as  I  was  coming  to  town,  to  let  you  know  at  once." 

The  force  of  this  anecdote  does  not  lie  in  the  context. 
The  mystery  is  contained  in  the  fact  of  a  secret  interview 
having  been  overheard  and  commented  upon.  But  the 
truth  is,  that  having  greater  confidence  in  the  counsel  of 
my  visible  guide  than  in  that  of  ray  invisible  one,  I  abided 
by  the  former,  and  regretted  it  ever  afterwards. 

The  first  conversation  I  held  with  "  Florence  "  had  a 
great  effect  upon  me.  I  knew  before  that  my  uncontrolled 
grief  had  been  the  cause  of  the  untimely  death  of  her  body, 
but  it  had  never  struck  me  that  her  spirit  would  carry  the 
effects  of  it  into  the  unseen  world.  It  was  a  warning  to 
me  (as  it  should  be  to  all  mothers)  not  to  take  the  solemn 
responsibility  of  maternity  upon  themselves  without  be- 
ing prepared  to  sacrifice  their  own  feelings  for  the  sake  of 
their  children.  "  Florence  "  assured  me,  however,  that 
communion  with  myself  in  my  improved  condition  of 
happiness  would  soon  lift  her  spirit  from  its  state  of  de- 
pression, and  consequently  I  seized  every  opportunity  of 
seeing  and  speaking  with  her.  During  the  succeeding 
twelve  months  I  attended  numerous  seances  with  various 
media,  and  my  spirit  child  (as  she  called  herself)  never 
failed  to  manifest  through  the  influence  of  any  one  of 
them,  though,  of  course,  in  different  ways.  Through 
some  she  touched  me  only,  and  always  with  an  infant's 
hand,  that  I  might  recognize  it  as  hers,  or  laid  her 
mouth  against  mine  that  I  might  feel  the  scar  upon  her 
lip  ;  through  others  she  spoke,  or  wrote,  or  showed  her 
face,  but  I  never  attended  a  seance  at  which  she  omitted 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  8 1 

to  notify  her  presence.  Once  at  a  dark  circle,  held  with 
Mr.  Charles  Williams,  after  having  had  my  dress  and  that 
of  my  next  neighbor.  Lady  Archibald  Campbell,  pulled 
several  times  as  if  to  attract  our  attention,  the  darkness 
opened  before  us,  and  there  stood  my  child,  smiling  at  us 
like  a  happy  dream,  her  fair  hair  waving  about  her  temples, 
and  her  blue  eyes  fixed  on  me.  She  was  clothed  in  white, 
but  we  saw  no  more  than  her  head  and  bust,  about  wiiich 
her  hands  held  her  drapery.  Lady  Archibald  Campbell 
saw  her  as  plainly  as  I  did.  On  another  occasion  Mr. 
William  Eglinton  proposed  to  me  to  try  and  procure  the 
spirit-writing  on  his  arm.  He  directed  me  to  go  into 
another  room  and  write  the  name  of  the  friend  I  loved  best 
in  the  spirit  world  upon  a  scrap  of  paper,  which  I  was  to 
twist  up  tightly  and  take  back  to  him.  I  did  so,  writing 
the  name  of  "  John  Powles,"  When  I  returned  to  Mr. 
Eglinton,  he  bared  his  arm,  and  holding  the  paper  to  the 
candle  till  it  was  reduced  to  tinder,  rubbed  his  flesh  with 
the  ashes.  I  knew  what  was  expected  to  ensue.  The 
name  written  on  the  paper  was  to  reappear  in  red  or  white 
letters  on  the  medium's  arm.  The  sceptic  would  say  it 
was  a  trick  of  thought-reading,  and  that,  the  medium  know- 
ing what  I  had  written,  had  prepared  the  writing  during 
my  absence.  But  to  his  surprise  and  mine,  when  at  last 
he  shook  the  ashes  from  his  arm,  we  read,  written  in  a 
bold,  clear  hand,  the  words — "  Florence  is  the  dearest,"  as 
though  my  spirit  child  had  given  me  a  gentle  rebuke  for 
writing  any  name  but  her  own.  It  seems  curious  to  me 
now  to  look  back  and  remember  how  melancholy  she  used 
to  be  when  she  first  came  back  to  me,  for  as  soon  as  she 
had  established  an  unbroken  communication  between  us, 
she  developed  into  the  merriest  little  spirit  1  have  ever 
known,  and  though  her  childhood  has  now  passed  away, 
and  she  is  more  dignified  and  thoughtful  and  womanly, 
she  always  appears  joyous  and  happy.  She  has  manifested 
largely  to  me  through  the  mediumship  of  Mr.  Arthur  Col- 
man.  I  had  known  her,  during  a  dark  stance  with  a  very 
small  private  circle  (the  medium  being  securely  held  and 
fastened  the  while)  run  about  the  room,  like  the  child  she 
was,  and  speak  to  and  kiss  each  sitter  in  turn,  pulling  off 
the  sofa  and  chair  covers  and  piling  them  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  table,  and  changing  the  ornaments  of  everyone  pre- 
sent— placing  the  gentlemen's  neckties  round  the  throats 

6 


82  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

of  the  ladies,  and  hanging  the  ladies'  earrings  in  the  but- 
tonholes of  the  gentlemen's  coats — just  as  she  might  have 
done  had  she  been  still  with  us,  a  happy,  petted  child,  on 
earth.  I  have  known  her  come  in  the  dark  and  sit  on  my 
lap  and  kiss  my  face  and  hands,  and  let  me  feel  the  defect 
in  her  mouth  with  my  own.  One  bright  evening  on  the 
9th  of  July — my  birthday — Arthur  Colman  walked  in  quite 
unexpectedly  to  pay  me  a  visit,  and  as  I  had  some  friends 
with  me,  we  agreed  to  have  q.  seance.  It  was  impossible  to 
make  the  room  dark,  as  the  windows  were  only  shaded  by 
Venetian  blinds,  but  we  lowered  them,  and  sat  in  the  twi- 
light. The  first  thing  we  heard  was  the  voice  of  "  Florence  " 
whispering — "  A  present  for  dear  mother's  birthday,"  when 
something  was  put  into  my  hand.  Then  she  crossed  to 
the  side  of  a  lady  present  and  dropped  something  into  her 
hand,  saying,  "  And  a  present  for  dear  mother's  friend  !  " 
I  knew  at  once  by  the  feel  of  it  that  what  "  Florence"  had 
given  me  was  a  chaplet  of  beads,  and  knowing  how  often, 
under  similar  circumstances,  articles  are  merely  carried 
about  a  room,  I  concluded  it  was  one  which  lay  upon  my 
drawing-room  mantel-piece,  and  said  as  much.  I  was 
answered  by  the  voice  of  "  Aimee,"  the  medium's  nearest 
control. 

*'  You  are  mistaken,"  she  said,  "  '  Florence  '  has  given 
you  a  chaplet  you  have  never  seen  before.  She  was  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  to  give  you  a  present  on  your  birth- 
day, so  I  gave  her  the  beads  which  were  buried  with  me. 
They  came  from  my  coffin.  I  held  them  in  my  hand. 
All  I  ask  is,  that  you  will  not  shew  them  to  Arthur  until  I 
give  you  leave.  He  is  not  well  at  present,  and  the  sight  of 
them  will  upset  him." 

I  was  greatly  astonished,  but,  of  course,  I  followed  her 
instructions,  and  when  I  had  an  opportunity  to  examine 
the  beads,  I  found  that  they  really  were  strangers  to  me, 
and  had  not  been  in  the  house  before.  The  present  my 
lady  friend  had  received  was  a  large,  unset  topaz.  The 
chaplet  was  made  of  carved  wood  and  steel.  It  was  not 
till  months  had  elapsed  that  I  was  given  permission  to  show 
it  to  Arthur  Colman.  He  immediately  recognized  it  as 
the  one  he  had  himself  placed  in  the  hands  of  "  Aimee  "  as 
she  lay  in  her  coffin,  and  when  I  saw  how  the  sight  affected 
him,  I  regretted  I  had  told  him  anything  about  it.  I  offered 
to  give  the  beads  up  to  him,  but  he  refused  to  receive 
them,  and  they  remain  in  my  possession  to  this  day. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  83 

But  the  great  climax  that  was  to  prove  beyond  all 
question  the  personal  identity  of  the  spirit  who  communi- 
cated with  me,  with  the  body  I  had  brought  into  the  world, 
was  yet  to  come.  Mr.  William  Harrison,  the  editor  of  the 
Spiritualist  (who,  after  seventeen  years'  patient  research 
into  the  science  of  Spiritualism,  had  never  received  a  per- 
sonal proof  of  the  return  of  his  own  friends,  or  relations) 
wrote  me  word  that  he  had  received  a  message  from  his 
lately  deceased  friend,  Mrs.  Stewart,  to  the  effect  that  if  he 
would  sit  with  the  medium,  Florence  Cook,  and  one  or  two 
harmonious  companions,  she  would  do  her  best  to  appear 
to  him  in  her  earthly  likeness  and  afford  him  the  test  he 
had  so  long  sought  after.  Mr.  Harrison  asked  me,  there- 
fore, if  I  would  join  him  and  Miss  Kidlingbury — the  secre- 
tary to  the  British  National  Association  of  Spiritualists — 
in  holding  a  sea?ice  with  Miss  Cook,  to  which  I  agreed, 
and  we  met  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  Association  for  that 
purpose.  It  was  a  very  small  room,  about  8  feet  by  16  feet, 
was  uncarpeted  and  contained  no  furniture,  so  we  carried 
in  three  cane-bottomed  chairs  for  our  accommodation. 
Across  one  corner  of  the  room,  about  four  feet  from  the 
floor,  we  nailed  an  old  black  shawl,  and  placed  a  cushion 
behind  it  for  Miss  Cook  to  lean  her  head  against.  Miss 
Florence  Cook^  who  is  a  brunette,  of  a  small,  slight  figure, 
with  dark  eyes  and  hair  which  she  wore  in  a  profusion  of 
curls,  was  dressed  in  a  high  grey  merino,  ornamented  with 
crimson  ribbons.  She  informed  me  previous  to  sitting,  that 
she  had  become  restless  during  her  trances  lately,  and  in 
the  habit  of  walking  out  amongst  the  circle,  and  she  asked 
me  as  a  friend  (for  such  we  had  by  that  time  become)  to 
scold  her  well  should  such  a  thing  occur,  and  order  her  to 
go  back  into  the  cabinet  as  if  she  were  "  a  child  or  a  dog  ;  " 
and  I  promised  her  I  would  do  so.  After  Florence  Cook 
had  sat  down  on  the  floor,  behind  the  black  shawl  (which 
left  her  grey  merino  skirt  exposed),  and  laid  her  head 
against  the  cushion,  we  lowered  the  gas  a  little,  and  took 
our  seats  on  the  three  cane  chairs.  The  medium  appeared 
very  uneasy  at  first,  and  we  heard  her  remonstrating  with 
the  influences  for  using  her  so  roughly.  In  a  few  minutes, 
however,  there  was  a  tremulous  movement  of  the  black 
shawl,  and  a  large  white  hand  was  several  times  thrust  into 
view  and  withdrawn  again.  I  had  never  seen  Mrs.  Stewart 
(for  whom  we  were  expressly  sitting)  in  this  life,  and  could 


84  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

not,  therefore,  recognize  the  hand  ;  but  we  all  remarked 
how  large  and  white  it  was.  In  another  minute  the  shawl 
was  lifted  up,  and  a  female  figure  crawled  on  its  hands  and 
knees  from  behind  it,  and  then  stood  up  and  regarded  us. 
It  was  impossible,  in  the  dim  light  and  at  the  distance  she 
stood  from  us,  to  identify  the  features,  so  Mr.  Harrison 
asked  if  she  were  Mrs.  Stewart.  The  figure  shook  its  head. 
I  had  lost  a  sister  a  {^\v  months  previously,  and  the  thought 
flashed  across  me  that  it  might  be  her,  '^  Is  it  you,  Emily  ?  " 
I  asked  ;  but  the  head  was  still  shaken  to  express  a  nega- 
tive, and  a  similar  question  on  the  part  of  Miss  Kidling- 
bury,  with  respect  to  a  friend  of  her  own,  met  with  the 
same  response.  "  Who  can  it  be  ?  "  I  remarked  curiously 
to  Mr.  Harrison. 

"  Mother  !  don't  you  know  me  ?  "  sounded  in  "  Flor- 
ence's "  whispering  voice.  I  started  up  to  approach  her, 
exclaiming,  "  O  !  my  darling  child  !  I  never  thought  I 
should  meet  you  here  !  "  But  she  said,  "  Go  back  to  your 
chair,  and  I  will  come  to  you  ! "  I  reseated  myself,  and 
"'  Florence  "  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down  on  my  lap. 
She  was  more  unclothed  on  that  occasion  than  any  mate- 
rialized spirit  I  have  ever  seen.  She  wore  nothing  on  her 
head,  only  her  hair,  of  which  she  appears  to  have  an  im- 
mense quantity,  fell  down  her  back  and  covered  her 
shoulders.  Her  arms  were  bare  and  her  feet  and  part  of 
her  legs,  and  the  dress  she  wore  had  no  shape  or  style,  but 
seemed  like  so  many  yards  of  soft  thick  muslin,  wound 
round  her  body  from  the  bosom  to  below  the  knees.  She 
was  a  heavy  weight — perhaps  ten  stone — and  had  well- 
covered  limbs.  In  fact,  she  was  then,  and  has  appeared 
for  several  years  past,  to  be,  in  point  of  size  and  shape,  so 
like  her  eldest  sister  Eva,  that  I  always  observe  the  re- 
semblance between  them.  This  seance  took  place  at  a 
period  when  "  Florence  "  must  have  been  about  seventeen 
years  old. 

"  Florence,  my  darling,"  I  said,  "  is  this  really  you  ?  " 
"  Turn  up  the  gas,"  she  answered,  "  and  look  at  my  mouth." 
Mr.  Harrison  did  as  she  desired,  and  we  all  saw  distinctly 
that  peculiar  defect  07i  the  lip  with  which  she  was  born — 
a  defect,  be  it  remembered,  which  some  of  the  most  ex- 
perienced members  of  the  profession  had  affirmed  to  be 
"  so  rare  as  never  to  have  fallen  u?ider  their  ?wtice  before,'^ 
She  also  opened  her  mouth  that  we  might  see  she  had  no 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  85 

gullet.  I  promised  at  the  commencement  of  my  book  to 
confine  myself  to  facts,  and  leave  the  deduction  to  be  drawn 
from  them  to  my  readers,  so  I  will  not  interrupt  my  narra- 
tive to  make  any  remarks  upon  this  incontrovertible  proof 
of  identity.  I  know  it  struck  me  dumb,  and  melted  me 
into  tears.  At  this  juncture  Miss  Cook,  who  had  been 
moaning  and  moving  about  a  good  deal  behind  the  black 
shawl,  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer," 
and  walked  out  into  the  room.  There  she  stood  in  her 
grey  dress  and  crimson  ribbons  whilst  "  Florence  "  sat  on 
my  lap  in  white  drapery.  But  only  for  a  moment,  for 
directly  the  medium  was  fully  in  view,  the  spirit  sprung  up 
and  darted  behind  the  curtain.  Recalling  Miss  Cook's 
injunctions  to  me,  I  scolded  her  heartily  for  leaving  her 
seat,  until  she  crept  back,  whimpering,  to  her  former  po- 
sition. The  shawl  had  scarcely  closed  behind  her  before 
"  Florence  "  reappeared  and  clung  to  me,  saying,  "  Don't 
let  her  do  that  again.  She  frightens  me  so."  She  was 
actually  trembling  all  over.  "  Why,  Florence,"  I  replied. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  frightened  of  your  me- 
dium ?  In  this  world  it  is  we  poor  mortals  who  are  fright- 
ened of  the  spirits."  "  I  am  afraid  she  will  send  me  away, 
mother,"  she  whispered.  However,  Miss  Cook  did  not 
disturb  us  again,  and  "  Florence  "  stayed  with  us  for  some 
time  longer.  She  clasped  her  arms  round  my  neck,  and 
laid  her  head  upon  my  bosom,  and  kissed  me  dozens  of 
times.  She  took  my  hand  and  spread  it  out,  and  said  she 
felt  sure  I  should  recognize  her  hand  when  she  thrust  it  out- 
side the  curtain,  because  it  was  so  much  like  my  own.  I 
was  suffering  much  trouble  at  that  time,  and  "  Florence  " 
told  me  the  reason  God  had  permitted  her  to  show  herself 
to  me  in  her  earthly  deformity  was  so  that  I  might  be  sure 
that  she  was  herself,  and  that  Spiritualism  was  a  truth  to 
comfort  me.  "  Sometimes  you  doubt,  mother,"  she  said, 
"  and  think  your  eyes  and  ears  have  misled  you  ;  but  after 
this  you  must  never  doubt  again.  Don't  fancy  I  am  like 
this  in  the  spirit  land.  The  blemish  left  me  long  ago. 
But  I  put  it  on  to-night  to  make  you  certain.  Don't  fret, 
dear  mother.  Remember /am  always  near  you.  No  one 
can  take  me  away.  Your  earthly  children  may  grow  up 
and  go  out  into  the  world  and  leave  you,  but  you  will  always 
have  your  spirit  child  close  to  you."  I  did  not,  and  cannot, 
calculate  for  how  long  "  Florence "  remained  visible  on 


86  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

that  occasion.     Mr.  Harrison  told  me  afterwards  that  she 
had    remained  for   nearly  twenty  minutes.     But  her   un- 
doubted presence  was  such  a  stupendous  fact  tome,  that  I 
could  only  think  that  she  was  there — that   I  actually  held 
in  my  arms  the  tiny  infant  I  had  laid  with  my  own  hands 
in  her  coffin — that  she  was  no  more  dead  than  I  was  my- 
self, but  had  grown  to  be  a  woman.     So   I  sat,  with  my 
arms  tight  round   her,  and  my  heart  beating  against  hers, 
until  the  power  decreased,  and  "  Florence  "  was  compelled 
to  give  me  a  last  kiss  and  leave  me  stupefied  and  bewildered 
by  what  had  so  unexpectedly  occurred.     Two  other  spirits 
materialized  and  appeared  after  she  had  left  us,  but  as 
neither  of  them  was  Mrs.  Stewart,  the  seance,  as  far  as  Mr. 
Harrison  was  concerned,  was  a  failure.     I  have  seen  and 
heard  "  Florence  "on  numerous  occasions  since  the  one  I 
have  narrated,  but  not  with   the   mark  upon   her  mouth, 
which  she  assures  me  will  never  trouble  either  of  us  again. 
I  could  fill  pages   with   accounts  of  her  pretty,  caressing 
ways  and  her  affectionate  and  sometimes  solemn  messages  ; 
but  I  have  told  as  much  of  her  story  as  will  interest   the 
general  reader.     It  has  been  wonderful  to  me  to  mark  how 
her  ways  and  mode  of  communication  have  changed  with 
the  passing  years.     It  was  a  simple  child  who  did  not  know 
how  to  express  itself  that  appeared  to  me  in  1873.     It  is  a 
woman  full  of  counsel  and   tender  warning  that  comes  to 
me  in    1890.     But  yet  she   is  only  nineteen.     When   she 
reached  that  age,  "  Florence  "  told  me  she  should  never 
grow  any  older  in  years  or  appearance,  and  that  she  had 
reached  the  climax  of  womanly  perfection  in  the  spirit  world. 
Only  to-night — the  night  before  Christmas  Day — as  I  write 
her  story,  she  conies  to  me  and  says,  "  Mother  !  you  must 
not  give  way  to  sad   thoughts.     The  Past  is  past.     Let  it 
be  buried  in  the  blessings  that  remain  to  you." 

And  amongst  the  greatest  of  those  blessings   I   reckon 
my  belief  in  the  existence  of  my  spirit-child. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  87 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  STORY  OF  EMILY. 

My  sister  Emily  was  the  third  daughter  of  my  late  father, 
and  several  years  older  than  myself.  She  was  a  handsome 
woman — strictly  speaking,  perhaps,  the  handsomest  of  the 
family,  and  quite  unlike  the  others.  She  had  black  hair 
and  eyes,  a  pale  complexion,  a  well-shaped  nose,  and  small, 
narrow  hands  and  feet.  But  her  beauty  had  slight  detrac- 
tions— so  slight,  indeed,  as  to  be  imperceptible  to  strangers, 
but  well  known  to  her  intimate  friends.  Her  mouth  was  a 
little  on  one  side,  one  shoulder  was  half  an  inch  higher  than 
the  other,  her  fingers  were  not  quite  straight,  nor  her  toes, 
and  her  hips  corresponded  with  her  shoulders.  She  was 
clever,  with  a  versatile,  all-round  talent,  and  of  a  very  happy 
and  contented  disposition.  She  married  Dr,  Henry  Norris 
of  Charmouth,  in  Dorset,  and  lived  there  many  years  be- 
fore her  death.  She  was  an  excellent  wife  and  mother,  a 
good  friend,  and  a  sincere  Christian;  indeed,  I  do  not 
believe  that  a  more  earnest,  self-denying,  better  woman 
ever  lived  in  this  world.  But  she  had  strong  feelings, 
and  in  some  things  she  was  very  bigoted.  One  was  Spirit- 
ualism. She  vehemently  opposed  even  the  mention  of  it, 
declared  it  to  be  diabolical,  and  never  failed  to  blame  me 
for  pursuing  such  a  wicked  and  unholy  occupation.  She 
was  therefore  about  the  last  person  whom  I  should  have 
expected  to  take  advantage  of  it  to  communicate  with  her 
friends. 

My  sister  Emily,  died  on  the  20th  of  April,  1875. 
Her  death  resulted  from  a  sudden  attack  of  pleurisy, 
and  was  most  unexpected.  I  was  sitting  at  an  early  dinner 
with  my  children  on  the  same  day  when  I  received  a  tele- 
gram from  my  brother-in-law  to  say,  "  Emily  very  ill ;  will 
telegraph  when  change  occurs,"  and  I  had  just  despatched 
an  answer  to  ask  if  I  should  go  down  to  Charmouth,  or 
could  be  of  any  use,  when  a  second  message  arrived,  "  All 
is  over.  She  died  quietly  at  two  o'clock."  Those  who  have 


SS  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

received  similar  shocks  will  understand  what  I  felt.  I  was 
quite  stunned,  and  could  not  realize  that  my  sister  had 
passed  away  from  us,  so  completely  unanticipated  had  been 
the  news.  I  made  the  necessary  arrangements  for  going 
down  to  her  funeral,  but  my  head  was  filled  with  nothing 
but  thoughts  of  Emily  the  while,  and  conjectures  of  how 
she  had  died  and  oitvhat  she  had  died  (for  that  was,  as  yet, 
unknown  to  me),  and  what  she  had  thought  and  said; 
above  all,  what  she  was  thinking  and  feeling  at  that  moment, 
I  retired  to  rest  with  my  brain  in  a  whirl,  and  lay  half  the 
night  wide  awake,  staring  into  the  darkness,  and  wondering 
where  my  sister  was.  Now  was  the  time  (if  any)  for  my 
cerebral  organs  to  play  me  a  trick,  and  conjure  up  a  vision 
of  the  person  I  was  thinking  of.  But  I  saw  nothing  ;  no 
sound  broke  the  stillness  ;  my  eyes  rested  only  on  the  dark- 
ness. I  was  quite  disappointed,  and  in  the  morning  I  told 
my  children  so.  I  loved  my  sister  Emily  dearly,  and  I 
hoped  she  would  have  come  to  wish  me  good-bye.  On  the 
following  night  I  was  exhausted  by  want  of  sleep  and  the 
emotion  I  had  passed  through,  and  when  I  went  to  bed  I 
was  very  sleepy.  I  had  not  been  long  asleep,  however, 
before  1  was  waked  up — I  can  hardly  say  by  what — and 
there  at  my  bedside  stood  Emily,  smiling  at  me.  When  I 
lost  my  little  "  Florence,"  Emily  had  been  unmarried,  and 
she  had  taken  a  great  interest  in  my  poor  baby,  and  nursed 
her  during  her  short  lifetime,  and,  I  believe,  really  mourned 
her  loss,  for  (although  she  had  children  of  her  own)  she 
always  wore  a  little  likeness  of  "  Florence  "  in  a  locket  on 
her  watch-chain.  When  Emily  died  I  had  of  course  been 
for  some  time  in  communication  with  my  spirit-child,  and 
when  my  sister  appeared  to  me  that  night,  "  Florence  "  was 
in  her  arms,  with  her  head  resting  on  her  shoulder.  I 
recognized  them  both  at  once,  and  the  only  thing  which 
looked  strange  to  me  was  that  Emily's  long  black  hair  was 
combed  right  back  in  the  Chinese  fashion,  giving  her  fore- 
head an  unnaturally  high  appearance.  This  circumstance 
made  the  greater  impression  on  me,  because  we  all  have 
such  high  foreheads  with  the  hair  growing  off  the  temples 
that  we  have  never  been  able  to  wear  it  in  the  style  I  speak 
of.  With  this  exception  my  sister  looked  beautiful  and 
most  happy,  and  my  little  girl  clung  to  her  lovingly.  Emily 
did  not  speak  aloud,  but  she  kept  on  looking  down  at 
"  Florence,"  and  up  at  me,  whilst  her  lips  formed  the  words, 


THERE    IS  NO  DEATH.  89 

"  Little  Baby,"  which  was  the  name  by  which  she  had 
always  mentioned  my  spirir-child.  In  the  morning  I  men- 
tioned what  I  had  seen  to  my  elder  girls,  adding,  "  I  hardly 
knew  dear  Aunt  Emily,  with  her  hair  scratched  back  in 
that  fashion." 

This  apparition  happened  on  the  Wednesday  night, 
and  on  the  Friday  following  I  travelled  down  to  Char- 
mouth  to  be  present  at  the  funeral,  which  was  fixed 
for  Saturday.  I  found  my  sister  Cecil  there  before  me. 
As  soon  as  we  were  alone,  she  said  to  me,  "  I  am  so  glad 
you  came  to-day.  I  want  you  to  arrange  dear  Emily  nicely 
in  her  coffin.  The  servants  had  laid  her  out  before  my 
arrival,  and  she  doesn't  look  a  bit  like  herself.  But  I 
haven't  the  nerve  to  touch  her."  It  was  late  at  night,  but 
I  took  a  candle  at  once  and  accompanied  Cecil  to  the 
death-chamber.  Our  sister  was  lying,  pale  and  calm,  with 
a  smile  upon  her  lips,  much  as  she  had  appeared  to  me, 
and  with  all  her  black  hair  combed  back  froin  her  forehead. 
The  servants  had  arranged  it  so,  thinking  it  looked  neater. 
It  was  impossible  to  make  any  alteration  till  the  morning, 
but  when  our  dear  sister  was  carried  to  her  grave,  her  hair 
framed  her  dead  face  in  the  wavy  curls  in  which  it  ahvays 
fell  when  loose  ;  a  wreath  of  flowering  syringa  was  round 
her  head,  a  cross  of  violets  on  her  breast,  and  in  her  waxen, 
beautifully-moulded  hands,  she  held  three  tall,  white  lilies. 
I  mention  this  because  she  has  come  to  me  since  with  the 
semblance  of  these  very  flowers  to  ensure  her  recognition. 
After  the  funeral,  my  brother-in-law  gave  me  the  details  of 
her  last  illness.  He  told  me  that  on  the  Monday  afternoon, 
when  her  illness  first  took  a  serious  turn  and  she  became 
(as  he  said)  delirious,  she  talked  continually  to  her  father. 
Captain  Marryat  (to  whom  she  had  been  most  reverentially 
attached),  and  who,  she  affirmed,  was  sitting  by  the  side  of 
the  bed.  Her  conversation  was  perfectly  rational,  and  only 
disjointed  when  she  waited  for  a  reply  to  her  own  remarks. 
She  spoke  to  him  of  Langham  and  all  that  had  happened 
there,  and  particularly  expressed  her  surprise  at  his  having 
a  beard,  saying,  "  Does  hair  grow  up  there,  father?  "  I  was 
the  more  impressed  by  this  account,  because  Dr.  Norris, 
like  most  medical  men,  attributed  the  circumstance  entirely 
to  the  distorted  imagination  of  a  wandering  brain.  And  yet 
my  father  (whom  I  have  never  seen  since  his  death)  has 
been  described  to  me  by  various  clairvoyants,  and  always 


go  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

as  wearing  a  beards  a  tiling  he  never  did  during  his  h'fetime, 
as  it  was  the  fashion  then  for  naval  officers  to  wear  only 
side  whiskers.  In  all  his  pictures  he  is  represented  as  clean 
shorn,  and  as  he  was  so  well  known  a  man,  one  would 
think  that  (were  they  dissembling)  the  clairvoyants,  in 
describing  his  personal  characteristics,  would  follow  the 
clue  given  by  his  portraits. 

For  some  time  after  my  sister  Emily's  death  I  heard 
nothing  more  of  her,  and  for  the  reasons  I  have  given, 
I  never  expected  to  see  her  again  until  we  met  in 
the  spirit-world.  About  two  years  after  her  death, 
however,  my  husband.  Colonel  Lean,  bought  two  tickets 
for  a  series  of  seances  to  be  held  in  the  rooms  of  the 
British  National  Association  of  Spiritualists  under  the 
the  mediumship  of  Mr.  William  Eglinton.  This  was  the 
first  time  we  had  ever  seen  or  sat  with  Mr.  Eglinton,  but 
we  had  heard  a  great  deal  of  his  powers,  and  were  curious 
to  test  them.  On  the  first  night,  which  was  a  Saturday, 
we  assembled  with  a  party  of  twelve,  all  complete  strangers, 
in  the  rooms  I  have  mentioned,  which  were  comfortably 
lighted  with  gas.  Mr.  Eglinton,  who  is  a  young  man  in- 
clined to  stoutness,  went  into  the  cabinet,  which  was  placed 
in  the  centre  of  us,  with  spectators  all  round  it.  The  cabi- 
net was  like  a  large  cupboard,  made  of  wood  and  divided 
into  two  parts,  the  partition  being  of  wire-work,  so  that  the 
medium  might  be  padlocked  into  it,  and  a  curtain  drawn 
in  front  of  both  sides.  After  a  while,  a  voice  called  out  to 
us  not  to  be  frightened,  as  the  medium  was  coming  out  to 
get  more  power,  and  Mr.  Eglinton,  in  a  state  of  trance  and 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  evening  clothes,  walked  out  of  the  cabi- 
net and  commenced  a  tour  of  the  circle.  He  touched 
every  one  in  turn,  but  did  not  stop  until  he  reached  Colonel 
Lean,  before  whom  he  remained  for  some  time,  making 
magnetic  passes  down  his  face  and  figure.  He  then  turned 
to  re-enter  the  cabinet,  but  as  he  did  so,  some  one  moved 
the  curtain  from  inside  and  Mr.  Eglinton  actually  held  the 
curtain  to  one  side  to  permit  the  materialized  for  )n  to  pass 
out  before  he  went  into  the  cabinet  himself.  The  figure 
that  appeared  was  that  of  a  woman  clothed  in  loose  white 
garments  that  fell  to  her  feet.  Her  eyes  were  black  and  her 
long  black  hair  fell  over  her  shoulders.  I  suspected  at  the 
time  who  she  was,  but  each  one  in  the  circle  was  so  certain 
she  came  for  him  or  for  her,  that  I  said  nothing,  and  only 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  91 

mentally  asKed  if  it  were  my  sister  that  I  might  receive  a 
proof  of  her  identity.  On  the  following  evening  (Sunday) 
Colonel  Lean  and  I  were  "  sitting  "  together,  when  Emily 
came  to  the  table  to  assure  us  that  it  was  she  whom  we 
had  seen,  and  that  she  would  appear  again  on  Monday  and 
show  herself  more  clearly.  I  asked  her  to  think  of  some 
means  by  which  she  could  prove  her  identity  with  the  spirit 
that  then  spoke  to  us,  and  she  said.  "  I  will  hold  up  my 
right  hand."  Colonel  Lean  cautioned  me  not  to  mention 
this  promise  to  any  one,  that  we  might  be  certain  of  the 
correctness  of  the  test.  Accordingly,  on  the  Monday  even- 
ing we  assembled  for  our  second  seance  with  Mr.  Eglinton, 
and  the  same  form  appeared,  and  walking  out  much  closer 
to  us,  held  up  the  right  hand.  Colonel  Lean,  anxious  not 
to  be  deceived  by  his  own  senses,  asked  the  company  what 
the  spirit  was  doing.  "  Cannot  you  see  ?  "  was  the  answer. 
"  She  is  holding  up  her  hand."  On  this  occasion  Emily 
came  with  all  her  old  characteristics  about  her,  and  there 
would  have  been  no  possibility  of  mistaking  her  (at  least 
on  my  part)  without  the  proof  she  had  promised  to  give 
us. 

The  next  startling  assurance  we  received  of  her  prox- 
imity happened  in  a  much  more  unexpected  manner.  We 
were  staying,  in  the  autumn  of  the  following  year,  at  a 
boarding-house  in  the  Rue  de  Vienne  at  Brussels,  with  a 
large  party  of  English  visitors,  none  of  whom  we  had  ever 
seen  till  we  entered  the  house.  Amongst  them  were  several 
girls,  who  had  never  heard  of  Spiritualism  before,  and  were 
much  interested  in  listening  to  the  relation  of  our  experi- 
ences on  the  subject.  One  evening  when  I  was  not  well, 
and  keeping  my  own  room,  some  of  these  young  ladies  got 
hold  of  Colonel  Lean  and  said,  "Oh  !  do  come  and  sit  in 
the  dark  with  us  and  tell  us  ghost  stories."  Now  sitting 
in  the  dark  and  telling  ghost  stories  to  five  or  six  nice 
looking  girls  is  an  occupation  few  men  would  object  to, 
and  they  were  all  soon  ensconced  in  the  dark  and  deserted 
salle-d-manger.  Amongst  them  was  a  young  girl  of  sixteen, 
Miss  Helen  Hill,  who  had  never  shown  more  interest  than 
the  rest  in  such  matters.  After  they  had  been  seated  in 
the  dark  for  some  minutes,  she  said  to  Colonel  Lean,  "  Do 
you  know,  I  can  see  a  lady  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table 
quite  distinctly,  and  she  is  nodding  and  smiling  at  you." 
The  colonel  asked  what  the  lady  was  like.      "  She  is  very 


gZ  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

nice  looking,"  replied  the  girl,  "  with  dark  eyes  and  hair, 
but  she  seems  to  want  me  to  notice  her  ring.  She  wears 
a  ring  with  a  large  blue  stone  in  it,  of  such  a  funny  shape, 
and  she  keeps  on  twisting  it  round  and  round  her  finger, 
and  pointing  to  it.  Oh  !  now  she  has  got  up  and  is  walk- 
ing round  the  room.  Only  fancy  !  she  is  holding  up  her 
feet  for  me  to  see.  They  are  bare  and  very  white,  but  her 
toes  are  crooked  !  "  Then  Miss  Hill  became  frightened 
and  asked  them  to  get  a  light.  She  declared  that  the  figure 
had  come  up,  close  to  her,  and  torn  the  lace  off  her  wrists. 
And  when  the  light  was  procured  and  her  dress  examined, 
a  frill  of  lace  that  had  been  tacked  into  her  sleeve  that 
morning  had  totally  disappeared.  The  young  ladies  grew 
nervous  and  left  the  room,  and  Colonel  Lean,  thinking  the 
description  Helen  Hill  had  given  of  the  spirit  tallied  with 
that  of  my  sister  Emily,  came  straight  up  to  me  and  sur- 
prised me  by  an  abrupt  question  as  to  whether  she  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  wearing  any  particular  ring  (for  he  had 
not  seen  her  for  several  years  before  her  death).  I  told 
him  that  her  favorite  ring  was  an  uncut  turquoise — so  large 
and  uneven  that  she  used  to  call  it  her  "  potato."  "  Had 
she  any  peculiarity  about  her  feet?  "  he  went  on,  eagerly. 
"  Why  do  you  wish  to  know?  "  I  said.  "  She  had  crooked 
toes,  that  is  all."  "  Good  heavens  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  then 
she  has  been  with  us  in  the  salle-d-manger.''''  I  have  never 
met  Miss  Hill  since,  and  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  say  if  she 
has  evinced  any  further  possession  of  clairvoyant  power  ; 
but  she  certainly  displayed  it  on  that  occasion  to  a  remark- 
able degree  ;  for  she  had  never  even  heard  of  the  existence 
of  my  sister  Emily,  and  was  very  much  disturbed  and 
annoyed  when  told  that  the  apparition  she  had  described 
was  reality  and  not  imagination. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  93 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE    GREEN  LADY. 

The  story  I  have  to  tell  now  happened  a  very  short  time 
ago,  and  every  detail  is  as  fresh  in  my  mind  as  if  I  had 
heard  and  seen  it  yesterday.  Mrs,  Guppy-Volckman  has 
been  long  known  to  the  spiritualistic  world  as  a  very  power- 
ful medium,  also  as  taking  a  great  private  interest  in  Spirit- 
ualism, which  all  media  do  not.  Her  means  justify  her,  too, 
in  gratifying  her  whims  ;  and  hearing  that  a  certain  house 
in  Broadstairs  was  haunted,  she  became  eager  to  ascertain 
the  truth.  The  house  being  empty,  she  procured  the  keys 
from  the  landlord,  and  proceeded  on  a  voyage  of  discovery 
alone.  Slie  had  barely  recovered,  at  the  time,  from  a  most 
dangerous  illness,  which  had  left  a  partial  paralysis  of  the 
lower  limbs  behind  it ;  it  was  therefore  with  considerable 
difficulty  that  she  gained  the  drawing-room  of  the  house, 
which  was  on  the  first  floor,  and  when  there  she  abandoned 
her  crutches,  and  sat  down  o\\  the  floor  to  recover  herself. 
Mrs.  Volckman  was  now  perfectly  alone.  She  had  closed 
the  front  door  after  her,  and  she  was  moreover  almost 
helpless,  as  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  she  could  rise 
without  assistance.  It  was  on  a  summer's  evening  towards 
the  dusky  hour,  and  she  sat  on  the  bare  floor  of  the  empty 
house  waiting  to  see  what  might  happen.  After  some  time 
(I  tell  this  part  of  the  story  as  I  received  it  from  her  lips) 
she  heard  a  rustling  or  sweeping  sound,  as  of  a  long  silk 
train  coming  down  the  uncarpeted  stairs  from  the  upper 
storey.  The  room  in  which  she  sat  communicated  with 
another,  which  led  out  upon  the  passage,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  door  between  these  two  apartments  opened 
and  the  figure  of  a  woman  appeared.  She  entered  the 
room  in  which  Mrs.  Volckman  sat,  very  cautiously,  and 
commenced  to  walk  round  it,  feeling  her  way  along  the 
walls  as  though  she  were  blind  or  tipsy.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  green  satin  robe  that  swept  behind  her — round  the 
upper  part  of  her  body  was  a  kind  of  scarf  of  glistening 


94  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

white  material,  like  silk  gauze — and  on  her  head  was  a 
black  velvet  cap,  or  coif,  from  underneath  which  her  long 
black  hair  fell  down  her  back.  Mrs.  Volckman,  although 
used  all  her  life  to  manifestations  and  apparitions  of  all 
sorts,  told  me  she  had  never  felt  so  frightened  at  the  sight 
of  one  before.  She  attempted  to  rise,  but  feeling  her  in- 
capability of  doing  so  quickly,  she  screamed  with  fear.  As 
soon  as  she  did  so,  the  woman  turned  round  and  ran  out 
of  the  room,  apparently  as  frightened  as  herself.  Mrs. 
Volckman  got  hold  of  her  crutches,  scrambled  to  her  feet, 
found  her  way  downstairs,  and  reached  the  outside  of  the 
house  in  safety.  Most  people  would  never  have  entered  it 
again.  She,  on  the  contrary,  had  an  interview  with  the 
landlord,  and  actually,  then  and  there,  purchased  a  lease 
of  the  house  and  entered  upon  possession,  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  furnished  and  ready  for  occupation,  she  invited  a 
party  of  friends  to  go  down  and  stay  with  her  at  Broad- 
stairs,  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  "  Green  Lady," 
as  we  had  christened  her.  Colonel  Lean  and  I  were 
amongst  the  visitors,  the  others  consisting  of  Lady  Archi- 
bald Campbell,  Miss  Shaw,  Mrs.  Olive,  Mrs.  Bellesv,  Colo- 
nel Greek,  Mr.  Charles  Williams,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry 
Volckman,  which,  wth  our  host  and  hostess,  made  up  a 
circle  of  twelve.  We  assembled  there  on  a  bright  day  in 
July,  and  the  house,  with  its  large  rooms  and  windows 
facing  the  sea,  looked  cheerful  enough.  The  room  in  which 
Mrs.  Volckman  had  seen  the  apparition  was  furnished  as  a 
drawing-room.,  and  the  room  adjoining  it,  which  was 
divided  by  a  portiere  only  from  the.  larger  apartment,  she 
had  converted  for  convenience  sake  into  her  bedroom. 
The  first  evening  we  sat  it  was  about  seven  o'clock,  and 
so  light  that  we  let  down  all  the  Venetians,  which,  however, 
did  little  to  remedy  the  evil.  We  had  no  cabinet,  nor  cur- 
tains, nor  darkness,  for  it  was  full  moon  at  the  time,  and 
the  dancing,  sparkling  waves  were  quite  visible  through  the 
interstices  of  the  Venetians.  We  simply  sat  round  the  table, 
holding  hands  in  an  unbroken  circle  and  laughing  and 
chatting  with  each  other.  In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Volck- 
man said  something  was  rising  beside  her  from  the  carpet, 
and  in  a  few  more  the  "  Green  Lady  "  was  visible  to  us  all 
standing  between  the  medium  and  Mr.  Williams.  She  was 
just  as  she  had  been  described  to  us,  both  in  dress  and 
appearance,  but  her  face  was  as  white  and  as  cold  as  that 


THERE    IS   NO    DEATH.  95 

of  a  corpse,  and  lier  eyes  were  closed.  She  leaned  over 
the  table  and  brought  her  face  close  to  each  of  us  in  turn, 
but  she  seemed  to  have  no  power  of  speech.  After  stay- 
ing with  us  about  ten  minutes,  she  sunk  as  she  had  risen, 
through  tlie  carpet,  and  disappeared.  The  next  evening, 
under  precisely  similar  circumstances,  she  came  again. 
This  time  she  had  evidently  gained  more  vitality  in  a  ma- 
terialized condition,  for  when  I  urged  her  to  tell  me  her 
name,  she  whispered,  though  with  much  difficulty,  "  Julia  !  " 
and  when  Lady  Archibald  observed  that  she  thought  she 
had  no  hands,  the  spirit  suddenly  thrust  out  a  little  hand, 
and  grasped  the  curls  on  her  forehead  with  a  violence 
that  gave  her  pain.  Unfortunately,  Mr.  Williams'  profes- 
sional engagements  compelled  him  to  leave  us  on  the  fol- 
lowing day,  and  Mrs.  Volckman  had  been  too  recently  ill 
to  permit  her  to  sit  alone,  so  that  we  were  not  able  to  hold 
another  5^a/^^(?  for  the  "Green  Lady"  during  our  visit. 
But  we  had  not  seen  the  last  of  her.  One  evening  Mrs. 
Bellew  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  bay  window  of  the  draw- 
ing-room, just  "  between  the  lights,"  and  discussing  a  very, 
private  matter  indeed,  when  I  saw  (as  I  thought)  my 
hostess  maid  raise  the  portiere  that  hung  between  the 
apartments  and  stand  there  in  a  listening  attitude.  I  im- 
mediately gave  Mrs.  Volckman  the  hint.  "  Let  us  talk  of 
something  else,"  I  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "Jane  is  in  your 
bedroom."  "  O  !  no  !  she's  not,"  was  the  reply.  "  But  I 
saw  her  lift  \\\q.  portiere,'  I  persisted  ;  "  she  has  only  just 
dropped  it."  "  You  are  mistaken,"  replied  my  hostess, 
"  for  Jane  has  gone  on  the  beach  with  the  child."  I  felt 
sure  I  had  not  been  mistaken,  but  I  held  my  tongue  and 
said  no  more.  The  conversation  was  resumed,  and  as  we 
were  deep  in  the  delicate  matter,  the  woman  appeared  for 
the  second  time. 

"  Mrs.  Volckman,"  I  whispered,  "Jane  is  really  there. 
She  has  just  looked  in  again." 

My  friend  rose  from  her  seat.  "  Come  with  me,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  will  convince  you  that  you  are  wrong." 

I  followed  her  into  the  bedroom,  where  she  showed  me 
that  the  door  communicating  with  the  passage  was  locked 
inside. 

"  Now,  do  you  see,"  she  continued,  "  that  no  one  but 
the  *  Green  Lady '  could  enter  this  room  but  through  the 
one  we  are  sitting  in." 


96  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  the  '  Green  Lady,' "  I  replied, 
"  for  I  assuredly  saw  a  woman  standing  in  the  door- 
way." 

"  That  is  likely  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Volckman  ;  "but  if 
she  comes  again  she  shall  have  the  trouble  of  drawing  back 
the  curtains." 

And  thereupon  she  unhooped  the  portiere,  which  con- 
sisted of  two  curtains,  and  drew  them  right  across  the  door. 
We  had  hardly  regained  our  seats  in  the  bay  window 
before  the  two  curtains  were  sharply  drawn  aside,  making 
the  brass  rings  rattle  on  the  rod,  and  the  "  Green  Lady  " 
stood  in  the  opening  we  had  just  passed  through.  Mrs. 
Volckman  told  her  not  to  be  afraid,  but  to  come  out  and 
speak  to  us  ;  but  she  was  apparently  not  equal  to  doing  so, 
and  only  stood  there  for  a  few  mina^es  gazing  at  us.  I 
imprudently  left  my  seat  and  approached  her,  with  a  view 
to  making  overtures  of  friendship,  when  she  dropped  the 
curtains  over  her  figure.  I  passed  through  them  imme- 
diately to  the  other  side,  and  found  the  bedroom  empty 
and  the  door  locked  inside,  as  before. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  97 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  STORY    OF  THE  MONK. 

A  LADV  named  Uniacke,  a  resident  in  Bruges,  whilst  on  a 
visit  to  my  house  in  London,  met  and  had  a  seaiicew'xxh 
WiUiam  Eglinton,  with  which  she  was  so  delighted  that  she 
immediately  invited  him  to  go  and  stay  with  her  abroad, 
and  as  my  husband  and  I  were  about  to  cross  over  to 
Bruges  to  see  my  sister,  who  also  resided  there,  we  travelled 
in  company — Mr.  Eglinton  living  at  Mrs.  Uniacke's  home, 
whilst  we  stayed  with  our  own  relations.  Mrs.  Uniacke 
was  a  medium  herself,  and  had  already  experienced  some 
very  noisy  and  violent  demonstrations  in  her  own  house. 
She  was,  therefore,  quite  prepared  for  her  visitor,  and  had 
fitted  up  a  spare  room  with  a  cabinet  and  blinds  to  the 
windows,  and  everything  that  was  necessary.  But,  some- 
what to  her  chagrin,  we  were  informed  at  the  first  sitting 
by  Mr.  Eglinton's  control,  "  Joey,"  that  all  future  seances 
were  to  take  place  at  my  sister's  house  instead.  We  were 
given  no  reason  for  the  change  ;  we  were  simply  told  to 
obey  it.  My  sister's  house  was  rather  a  peculiar  one,  and 
I  have  already  alluded  te  it,  and  some  of  the  sights  and 
sounds  by  which  it  was  haunted,  in  the  chapter  headed 
"Optical  Illusions."  The  building  is  so  ancient  that  the 
original  date  has  been  completely  lost.  A  stone  set  into 
one  of  the  walls  bore  an  inscription  to  the  effect  that  it  was 
restored  in  the  year  1616.  And  an  obsolete  plan  of  the 
city  shows  it  to  have  stood  in  its  present  condition  in  1562. 
Prior  to  that  period,  however,  probably  about  the  thirteenth 
century,  it  is  supposed,  with  three  houses  on  either  side  of 
it,  to  have  formed  a  convent,  but  no  printed  record  remains 
of  the  fact.  Beneath  it  are  subterraneous  passages,  choked 
with  rubbish,  which  lead,  no  one  knows  whither.  I  had 
stayed  in  this  house  several  times  before,  and  always  felt 
unpleasant  influences  from  it,  as  I  have  related,  especially 
in  a  large  room  on  the  lower  floor,  then  used  as  a  drawing- 
room,  but  which   is  said  to  have  formed,  originally,  the 

7 


98  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

chapel  to  the  convent.  Others  had  felt  the  influence 
beside  myself,  though  we  never  had  had  reason  to  suppose 
tliat  there  was  any  particular  cause  for  it.  When  we  ex- 
pressed curiosity,  however,  to  learn  why  "  Joey  "  desired 
us  to  hold  our  seance  in  my  sister's  house,  he  told  us  that 
the  medium  had  not  been  brought  over  to  Bruges  for  our 
pleasure  or  edification,  but  that  there  was  a  great  work  to 
be  done  there,  and  Mrs.  Uniacke  had  been  expressly 
influenced  to  invite  him  over,  that  the  purposes  of  a  higlicr 
power  than  his  own  should  be  accomplished.  Conse- 
quently, on  the  following  evening  Mrs.  Uniacke  brought 
Mr.  Eglinton  over  to  my  sister's  house,  and  **  Joey  "  hav- 
ing been  asked  to  choose  a  room  for  the  sitting,  selected 
an  entresol  on  the  upper  floor,  which  led  by  two  short  pas- 
sages to  the  bedrooms.  The  bedroom  doors  being  locked 
a  dark  curtain  was  hung  at  the  entrance  of  one  of  these 
passages,  and  "Joey  "  declared  it  was  a  first-rate  cabinet. 
We  then  assembled  in  the  drawing-room,  for  the  purposes 
of  music  and  conversation,  for  we  intended  to  hold  the 
seance  later  in  the  evening.  The  party  consisted  only  of 
the  medium,  Mrs.  Uniacke,  my  sister,  my  husband,  and 
myself.  After  I  had  sung  a  song  or  two,  Mr.  Eglinton 
became  restless  and  moved  away  from  the  piano,  saying 
the  influence  was  too  strong  for  him.  He  began  walking 
up  and  down  the  room,  and  staring  fixedly  at  the  door, 
before  which  hung  ti portiere.  Several  times  he  exclaimed 
with  knitted  brows,  '•  What  is  the  matter  with  that  door? 
There  is  something  very  peculiar  about  it,"  Once  he 
approached  it  quickly,  but  "Joey's  "  voice  was  heard  from 
behind  the p^r//Vr^,  saying,  "Don't  come  too  near."  Mr. 
Eglinton  then  retreated  to  a  sofa,  and  appeared  to  be  fight- 
ing violently  with  some  unpleasant  influence.  He  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  then  extended  his  fingers  towards 
the  door,  as  though  to  exorcise  it :  finally  he  burst  into  a 
mocking,  scornful  peal  of  laughter  that  lasted  for  some 
minutes.  As  it  concluded,  a  diabolical  expression  came 
over  his  face.  He  clenched  his  hands,  gnashed  his  teeth, 
and  commenced  to  grope  in  a  crouching  position  towards 
the  door.  We  concluded  he  wished  to  get  up  to  the  room 
where  the  'cabinet  was,  and  let  him  have  his  way.  He 
crawled,  rather  than  walked,  up  the  steep  turret  stairs, 
but  on  reaching  the  top,  came  to  himself  suddenly  and  fell 
back  several  steps.     My  husband,   fortunately,  was  just 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  99 

behind  him  and  saved  him  from  a  fall.  He  complained 
greatly  of  the  influence  and  of  a  pain  in  his  head,  and  we 
sat  at  the  table  to  receive  directions.  In  a  few  seconds 
the  same  spirit  had  taken  possession  of  him.  He  left  the 
table  and  groped  his  way  towards  the  bedrooms,  listening 
apparently  to  every  sound,  and  with  his  hand  holding  an 
imaginary  knife  which  was  raised  every  now  and  then  as  if 
to  strike.  The  expression  on  Mr.  Eglinton's  face  during 
this  possession  is  too  horrible  to  describe.  The  worst  pas- 
sions were  written  as  legibly  there  as  though  they  had  been 
labelled.  There  was  a  short  flight  of  stairs  leading  from 
the  entresol  to  the  corridor,  closed  at  the  head  by  a  padded 
door,  which  we  had  locked  for  fear  of  accident.  When, 
apparently  in  pursuit  of  his  object,  tb.e  spirit  led  the 
medium  up  to  this  door  and  he  found  it  fastened,  his  moans 
were  terrible.  Half-a-dozen  times  he  made  his  weary 
round  of  the  room^  striving  to  get  downstairs  to  accomplish 
some  end,  and  to  return  to  us  moaning  and  baffled.  At 
this  juncture,  he  was  so  exhausted  that  one  of  his  controls, 
"  Daisy,"  took  possession  of  him  and  talked  with  us  for 
some  time.  We  asked  "  Daisy  "  what  the  spirit  was  like 
that  had  controlled  Mr.  Eglinton  last,  and  she  said  she  did 
not  like  him — he  had  a  bad  face,  no  hair  on  the  top  of  his 
head,  and  a  long  black  frock.  From  this  we  concluded  he 
had  been  a  monk  or  a  priest.  When  "  Daisy  "  had  fin- 
ished speaking  to  us  "  Joey  "  desired  Mr.  Eglinton  to  go 
into  the  cabinet ;  but  as  soon  as  he  rose,  the  same  spirit 
got  possession  again  and  led  him  grovelling  as  before  to- 
wards the  bedrooms.  His  "  guides  "  therefore  carried  him 
into  the  cabinet  before  our  eyes.  He  was  elevated  far 
above  our  heads,  his  feet  touching  each  of  us  in  turn  ;  he 
was  then  carried  past  the  unshaded  window,  which  enabled 
us  to  judge  of  the  height  he  was  from  ihe  ground,  and  finally 
over  a  large  table,  into  the  cabinet. 

Nothing,  however,  of  consequence  occurred,  and  *'  Joey" 
advised  us  to  take  the  medium  downstairs  to  the  supper 
room. 

Accordingly  we  adjourned  there,  and  during  supper  Mr. 
Eglinton  appeared  to  be  quite  himself,  and  laughed  with 
us  over  what  had  taken  place.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was 
over,  however,  the  old  restlessness  returned  on  him,  and 
he  began  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  walking  out  every 
now  and  then  into  the  corridor.     In  a  few  minutes  we  per- 


loo  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

ceived  that  the  uneasy  spirit  again  controlled  him,  and  we 
all  followed.  He  went  steadily  towards  the  drawing-room, 
but,  on  finding  himself  pursued,  turned  back,  and  three 
times  pronounced  emphatically  the  word  "  Go."  He  then 
entered  the  drawing-room,  which  was  in  darkness,  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  whilst  we  waited  outside.  In 
a  little  while  he  reopened  it,  and  speaking  in  quite  a  dif- 
ferent voice,  said  '•  Bring  a  light  !  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you."  When  we  reassembled  with  a  lamp  we  found  the 
medium  controlled  by  a  new  spirit,  whom  "  Joey  "  after- 
wards told  us  was  one  of  his  highest  guides.  Motioning  us 
to  be  seated,  he  stood  before  us  and  said,  "  I  have  been 
selected  from  amongst  the  controls  of  this  medium  to  tell 
you  the  history  of  the  unhappy  being  who  has  so  disturbed 
you  this  evening.  He  is  present  now,  and  the  confession 
of  his  crime  through  my  lips  will  help  him  to  throw  off  the 
earthbound  condition  to  which  it  has  condemned  him. 
Many  years  ago,  the  house  in  which  we  now  stand  was  a 
convent,  and  underneath  it  were  four  subterraneous  pas- 
sages running  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  which  commu- 
nicated with  all  parts  of  the  town.  (I  must  here  state  that 
Mr.  Eglinton  had  not  previously  been  informed  of  any 
particulars  relating  to  the  former  history  of  my  sister's 
home,  neither  were  Mrs.  Uniacke  or  myself  acquainted 
with  it.) 

"  In  this  convent  there  lived  a  most  beautiful  woman — a 
nun,  and  in  one  of  the  neighboring  monasteries  a  priest 
who,  against  the  strict  law  of  his  Church,  had  conceived 
and  nourished  a  passion  for  her.  He  was  an  Italian  who 
had  been  obliged  to  leave  his  own  country,  for  reasons 
best  known  to  himself,  and  nightly  he  would  steal  his  way 
to  this  house,  by  means  of  one  of  the  subterraneous  pas- 
sages, and  attempt  to  overcome  the  nun's  scruples,  and 
make  her  listen  to  his  tale  of  love  ;  but  she,  strong  in  the 
faith,  resisted  him.  At  last,  maddened  one  day  by  her 
repeated  refusals,  and  his  own  guilty  passion,  he  hid  him- 
self in  one  of  the  northern  rooms  in  the  upper  story  of  this 
house,  and  watched  there  in  the  dark  for  her  to  pass  him 
on  her  way  from  her  devotions  in  the  chapel ;  but  she  did 
not  come.  Then  he  crept  downstairs  stealthily,  with  a 
dagger  hid  beneath  his  robes,  and  met  her  in  the  hall.  He 
conjured  her  again  to  yield  to  him,  but  again  she  resisted, 
and  he  stabbed  her  within  the  door  on  the  very  spot  where 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  loi 

the  medium  first  perceived  him.  Her  pure  soul  sought 
immediate  consolation  in  the  spirit  spheres,  but  his  has 
been  chained  down  ever  since  to  the  scene  of  his  awful 
crime.  He  dragged  her  body  down  the  secret  stairs  (which 
are  still  existent)  to  the  vaults  beneath,  and  hid  it  in  the 
subterraneous  passage. 

"  After  a  few  days  he  sought  it  again,  and  buried  it.  He 
lived  many  years  after,  and  committed  many  other  crimes, 
though  none  so  foul  as  this.  It  is  his  unhappy  spirit  that 
asks  your  prayers  to  help  it  to  progress.  It  is  for  lliis 
purpose  that  we  were  brought  to  this  city,  that  we  might 
aid  in  releasing  the  miserable  soul  that  cannot  rest." 

I  asked,  "  By  what  name  shall  we  pray  for  him  ?  " 

"  Pray  for  '  the  distressed  Being.'  Call  him  by  no  other 
name." 

"  What  is  your  own  name  ?  " 

**  I  prefer  to  be  unknown.  May  God  bless  you  all  and 
keep  you  in  the  way  of  prayer  and  truth  and  from  all  evil 
courses,  and  bring  you  to  everlasting  life.     Amen." 

The  medium  then  walked  up  to  the  spot  he  had  indicated 
as  the  scene  of  the  murder,  and  knelt  there  for  some 
minutes  in  prayer. 

Thus  concluded  the  first  seance  at  which  the  monk  was 
introduced  to  us.  But  the  next  day  as  I  sat  at  the  table 
with  my  sister  only,  the  name  of  "  Hortense  Dupont  "was 
given  us,  and  the  following  conversation  was  rapped  out. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  I  am  the  nun.  I  did  love  him.  I  couldn't  help  it  It 
is  such  a  relief  to  think  that  he  will  be  prayed  for." 

"  When  did  he  murder  you  ?  " 

"  In  1498." 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"  His  age." 

"  Thirty-five  ! " 

**  And  yours." 

"  Twenty-three." 

"Are  you  coming  to  see  us  to-morrow?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure." 

On  that  evening,  by  "Joey's  "  orders,  we  assembled  at 
seven.  Mr.  Eglinton  did  not  feel  the  influence  in  the 
drawing-room  that  day,  but  directly  he  entered  the  siance 
room,  he  was  possessed  by  the  same  spirit.      His  actions 


I02  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

were  still  more  graphic  than  on  the  first  occasion.  He 
watched  from  the  window  for  the  coming  of  his  victim 
through  the  courtyard,  and  then  recommenced  his  crawling 
stealthy  pursuit,  coming  back  each  time  from  the  locked 
door  that  barred  his  egress  with  such  heart-rending 
moans  that  no  one  could  have  listened  to  him  unmoved. 
At  last,  his  agony  was  so  great,  as  he  strove  again  and 
again,  like  some  dumb  animal,  to  j^ass  through  the  walls 
that  divided  him  from  the  spot  he  wished  to  visit,  whilst 
the  persj^iration  streamed  down  the  medium's  face  with 
the  struggle,  that  we  attempted  to  make  him  speak  to  us. 
We  implored  him  in  French  to  tell  us  his  trouble,  and  be- 
lieve us  to  be  his  friends  ;  but  he  only  pushed  us  away. 
At  last  we  were  impressed  to  pray  for  him,  and  kneeling 
down,  we  repeated  all  the  well-known  Catholic  prayers. 
As  we  commenced  the  ^'  De  Profundis  "  the  medium  fell 
prostrate  on  the  earth,  and  seemed  to  wrestle  with  his 
agony.  At  the  "  Salve  Regina  "  and  "  Ave  Maria  "  he 
lifted  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  clasped  his  hands,  and  in  the 
"Pater  Noster  "  he  appeared  to  join.  But  directly  we 
ceased  praying  the  evil  passions  returned,  and  his  face 
became  distorted  in  the  thirst  for  blood.  It  was  an  experi- 
ence tliat  no  one  who  had  seen  could  ever  forget.  At  last 
my  sister  fetched  a  crucifix,  which  we  placed  upon  his 
breast.  It  had  not  been  there  many  seconds  before  a 
different  expression  came  over  his  face.  He  seized  it  in 
both  hands,  straining  it  to  his  eyes,  lips,  and  heart,  hold- 
ing it  from  him  at  arm's  length,  then  passionately  kissing 
it,  as  we  repeated  the  '*  Anima  Christi."  Finally,  he  held 
the  crucifix  out  for  each  of  us  to  kiss  ;  a  beautiful  smile 
broke  out  on  the  medium's  face,  and  the  spirit  passed  out 
of  him. 

Mr.  Eglinton  awoke  on  that  occasion  terribly  exhausted. 
His  face  was  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and  he  trembled  vio- 
lently. His  first  words  were  :  "  They  are  doing  some- 
thing to  my  forehead.  Burn  a  piece  of  paper,  and  give 
me  the  ashes."  He  rubbed  them  between  his  eyes,  when 
the  sign  of  the  cross  became  distinctly  visible,  drawn  in 
deep  red  lines  upon  his  forehead.  The  controls  then  said, 
exhausted  as  Mr.  Eglinton  was,  we  were  to  place  him  in 
the  cabinet,  as  their  work  was  not  yet  done.  He  was 
accordingly  led  in  trance  to  the  arm-chair  behind  the  cur- 
tain, whilst  we  formed  a  circle  in  front  of  him.      In  a  few 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH. 


»o3 


seconds  the  cabinet  was  illuminated,  and  a  cross  of  fire 
appeared  outside  of  it.  This  manifestation  having  been 
seen  twice,  the  head  and  shoulders  of  a  nun  appeared 
floating  outside  the  curtain.  Her  white  coif  and  "  chin- 
piece  "  were  pinned  just  as  the  '''  religietises"  are  in  the 
habit  of  pinning  them,  and  she  seemed  very  anxious  to 
show  herself,  coming  close  to  each  of  us  in  turn,  and  re- 
appearing several  times.  Her  face  was  that  of  a  young 
and  pretty  woman.  "  Joey  "  said,  "That's  the  nun,  but 
you'll  understand  that  this  is  only  a  preliminary  trial,  pre- 
paratory to  a  more  perfect  materialization."  I  asked  the 
apparition  if  she  were  the  "  Hortense  Dupont "  that  had 
communicated  through  me,  and  she  nodded  her  head 
several  times  in  acquiescence.  Thus  ended  our  second 
siance  with  the  Monk  of  Bruges. 

On  the  third  day  we  were  all  sitting  at  supper  in 
my  sister's  house  at  about  ten  o'clock  at  night,  when 
loud  raps  were  heard  about  the  room,  and  on  giving 
the  alphabet,  "Joey "  desired  us  to  go  upstairs  and  sit, 
and  to  have  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  staircase  (which 
we  had  hitherto  locked  for  fear  of  accidents)  left  open ; 
which  we  accordingly  did.  As  soon  as  we  were  seated  at 
the  table,  the  medium  became  entranced,  and  the  same 
pantomime  which  I  have  related  was  gone  through.  He 
watched  from  the  window  that  looked  into  the  courtyard, 
and  silently  groped  his  way  round  the  room,  until  he  had 
crawled  on  his  stomach  up  the  stairs  that  led  to  the  padded 
door.  When  he  found,  however,  that  the  obstacle  that 
had  hitherto  stood  in  his  way  was  removed  (by  its  being 
open)  he  drew  a  long  breath  and  started  away  for  the 
winding  turret  staircase,  listening  at  the  doors  he  passed 
to  find  out  if  he  were  overheard.  When  he  came  to  the 
stairs,  in  descending  which  we  had  been  so  afraid 
he  might  hurt  himself^  he  was  carried  down  them  in 
the  most  wonderful  manner,  only  placing  his  hand  on 
the  balustrades,  and  swooping  to  the  bottom  in  one 
flight.  We  had  placed  a  lamp  in  the  hall,  so  that  as  we 
followed  him  we  could  observe  all  his  actions.  When  he 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  staircase  he  crawled  on  his 
stomach  to  the  door  of  the  drawing-room  (originally  the 
chapel)  and  there  waited  and  listened,  darting  back  into 
the  shadow  every  time  he  fancied  he  heard  a  sound. 
Imagine  our  little  party  of  four  in  that  sombre  old  house, 


104  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

the  only  ones  waking  at  that  time  of  night,  watching  by 
the  ghastly  light  of  a  turned-down  lamp  the  acting  of  that 
terrible  tragedy.  We  held  our  breath  as  the  murderer 
crouched  by  the  chapel  door,  opening  it  noiselessly  to 
peep  within,  and  then,  retreating  w'th  his  imaginary  dagger 
in  his  hand,  ready  to  strike  as  soon  as  his  victim  appeared. 
At  last  she  seemed  to  come.  In  an  instant  he  had  sprung 
to  meet  her,  stabbing  her  first  in  a  half-stooping  attitude, 
and  then,  apparently,  finding  her  not  dead,  he  rose  to  his 
full  height  and  stabbed  her  twice,  straight  downwards.  For 
a  moment  he  seemed  paralyzed  at  what  he  had  done, 
starting  back  with  both  hands  clasped  to  his  forehead. 
Then  he  flung  himself  prostrate  on  the  supposed  body, 
kissing  the  ground  frantically  in  all  directions.  Presently 
he  woke  to  the  fear  of  detection,  and  raised  the  corpse 
suddenly  in  his  arms.  He  fell  once  beneath  the  supposed 
weight,  but  staggering  to  his  feet  again,  seized  and  dragged 
it,  slipping  on  the  stone  floor  as  he  went,  to  the  head  of 
the  staircase  that  led  to  the  cellars  below,  where  the 
mouth  of  one  of  the  subterraneous  passages  was  still  to 
be  seen.  The  door  at  the  head  of  this  flight  was  modern, 
and  he  could  not  undo  the  lock,  so,  prevented  from  drag- 
ging the  body  down  the  steps,  he  cast  himself  again  upon 
it,  kissing  the  stone  floor  of  the  hall  and  moaning.  At  last 
he  dragged  himself  on  his  knees  to  the  spot  of  the  murder, 
and  began  to  pray.  We  knelt  with  him,  and  as  he  heard 
our  voices  he  turned  on  his  knees  towards  us  with  out- 
stretched hands.  I  suggested  that  he  wanted  the  crucifix 
again,  and  went  upstairs  to  fetch  it,  when  the  medium 
followed  me.  When  I  had  found  what  I  sought,  he  seized 
it  from  me  eagerly,  and  carrying  it  to  the  window,  whence 
he  had  so  often  watched,  fell  down  again  upon  his  knees. 
After  praying  for  some  time  he  tried  to  speak  to  us.  His 
lips  moved  and  his  tongue  protruded,  but  he  was  unable 
to  articulate.  Suddenly  he  seized  each  of  our  hands  in 
turn  in  both  of  his  own,  and  wrung  them  violently.  He 
tried  to  bless  us,  but  the  words  would  not  come.  The  same 
beautiful  smile  we  had  seen  the  night  before  broke  out 
over  his  countenance,  the  crucifix  dropped  from  his  hands, 
and  he  fell  prostrate  on  the  floor.  The  next  moment  Mr. 
Eglinton  was  asking  us  where  he  was  and  what  on  earth 
had  happened  to  him,  as  he  felt  so  queer.  He  declared 
himself  fearfully  exhausted,  but  said  he  felt  that  a  great 


THERE   IS   NO   DEATH.  105 

calm  and  peace  had  come  over  him  notwithstanding  the 
weakness,  and  he  believed  some  great  good  had  been 
accomplished.  He  was  not  again  entranced,  but  "  Joey  " 
ordered  the  liglit  to  be  put  out,  and  spoke  to  us  in  the 
direct  voice  as  follows  : — 

"  I've  just  come  to  tell  you  what  I  know  you  will  be  very 
glad  to  hear,  that  through  the  medium's  power,  and  our 
power,  and  the  great  power  of  God,  the  unhappy  spirit  who 
has  been  confessing  his  crime  to  you  is  freed  to-night  from 
the  heaviest  part  of  his  burden — the  being  earth-chained  to 
the  spot.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  will  go  away  at  once 
to  the  spheres,  because  he's  got  a  lot  to  do  still  to  alter  the 
conditions  under  which  he  labors,  but  the  worst  is  over. 
This  was  the  special  work  Mr.  Eglinton  was  brought  to 
Bruges  to  do,  and  Ernest  and  I  can  truly  say  that,  during 
the  whole  course  of  our  control  of  him,  we  have  never  had 
to  put  forth  our  own  powers,  nor  to  ask  so  earnestly  for  the 
help  of  God,  as  in  the  last  three  days.  You  have  all  helped 
in  a  good  work, — to  free  a  poor  soul  from  earth,  and  to  set 
him  on  the  right  road,  and  ^ve  are  grateful  to  you  and  to  the 
medium,  as  well  as  he.  He  will  be  able  to  progress  rapidly 
now  until  he  reaches  his  proper  sphere,  and  hereafter  the 
spirits  of  himself  and  the  woman  he  murdered  will  work 
together  to  undo  for  others  the  harm  they  brought  upon 
themselves.  She  is  rejoicing  in  her  high  sphere  at  the 
work  we  have  done  for  him,  and  will  be  the  first  to  help 
and  welcome  him  upward.  There  are  many  more  earth- 
bound  spirits  in  this  house  and  the  surrounding  houses 
who  are  suffering  as  he  was,  though  not  to  the  same  extent, 
nor  for  the  same  reason.  But  they  all  ask  for  and  need 
your  help  and  your  prayers,  and  this  is  the  greatest  and 
noblest  end  of  Spiritualism — to  aid  poor,  unhappy  spirits 
to  free  themselves  from  earth  and  progress  upwards.  After 
a  while  when  this  spirit  can  control  the  medium  with  calm- 
ness, he  will  come  himself  and  tell  you,  through  him,  all  his 
history  and  how  he  came  to  fall.  Meanwhile,  we  thank 
you  very  much  for  allowing  us  to  draw  so  much  strength 
from  you  and  helping  us  with  your  sympathy,  and  I  hope 
you  will  believe  me  always  to  remain,  your  loving  friend, 
Joey." 


This  account,  with  very  little  alteration,  was  published 
in  the  Spiritualist  newspaper,  August  29th,  1879,  when 


Jo6  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

the  seances  had  just  occurred.  Tliere  is  a  sequel  to  the 
slory,  however,  which  is  ahiiost  as  remarkable  as  itself,  and 
which  has  not  appeared  in  print  till  now.  From  Bruges 
on  this  occasion  my  husband  and  I  went  to  Brussels, 
where  we  diverted  ourselves  by  means  very  dissimilar  to 
anything  so  grave  as  Spiritualism.  There  were  many  sales 
going  on  in  Brussels  at  that  moment,  and  one  of  our  amuse- 
ments was  to  make  a  tour  of  the  salerooms  and  inspect  the 
articles  put  up  for  competition.  During  one  of  these  visits 
I  was  much  taken  by  a  large  oil  pointing,  in  a  massive 
frame,  measuring  some  six  or  seven  feet  square.  It  re- 
presented a  man  in  the  dress  of  a  Franciscan  monk — i.e., 
a  brown  serge  robe,  knotted  with  cords  about  the  waist — 
kneeling  in  prayer  with  outstretched  hands  upon  a  mass 
of  burning  embers.  It  was  labelled  in  the  catalogue  as 
the  picture  of  a  Spanish  monk  of  the  order  of  Saint  Francis 
Xavier,  and  was  evidently  a  painting  of  some  value.  I 
was  drawn  to  go  and  look  at  it  several  days  in  succession 
before  the  sale,  and  I  told  my  husband  that  I  coveted  its 
possession.  He  laughed  at  me  and  said  it  would  fetch  a 
great  deal  more  money  than  we  could  afford  to  give 
for  it,  in  which  opinion  I  acquiesced.  Theday  of  the  sale, 
however,  found  us  in  our  places  to  watch  the  proceedings, 
and  when  the  picture  of  the  monk  was  put  up  I  bid  a  small 
sum  for  it.  Col.  Lean  looked  at  me  in  astonishment,  but 
I  whispered  to  him  that  I  was  only  in  fun,  and  I  should 
stop  at  a  hundred  francs.  The  bidding  was  very  languid, 
however,  and  to  my  utter  amazement,  the  picture  was 
knocked  down  to  me  for  seventy-two  francs.  I  could 
hardly  believe  that  it  was  true.  Directly  the  sale  was  con- 
cluded, the  brokers  crowded  round  me  to  ask  what  I  would 
take  for  the  painting,  and  they  told  me  they  had  not  thought 
of  bidding  until  it  should  have  reached  a  few  hundred 
francs.  But  I  told  them  I  had  got  my  bargain,  and  I  meant 
to  stick  by  it.  When  we  returned  next  day  to  make  ar- 
rangements for  its  being  sent  to  us,  the  auctioneer  informed 
us  that  the  frame  alone  in  which  it  had  been  sent  for  sale 
had  cost  three  hundred  francs,  so  that  I  was  well  satisfied 
with  my  purchase.  This  occurrence  took  place  a  short 
time  before  we  returned  tfe  England,  where  we  arrived  long 
before  the  painting,  which,  with  many  others,  was  left  to 
follow  us  by  a  cheaper  and  slower  route. 

The  Sunday  after  we  reached  home  (having  seen   no 
friends  in  the  meanwhile),  we  walked  into  Steinway  Hall 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  107 

to  hear  Mr.  Fletcher's  lecture.  At  its  conclusion  he  passed 
as  usual  into  a  state  of  trance,  and  described  what  he  saw 
before  him.  In  the  midst  of  mentioning  people,  places, 
and  incidents  unknown  to  us,  he  suddenly  exclaimed  : 
"  Now  I  see  a  very  strange  thing,  totally  unlike  anything 
I  have  ever  seen  before,  and  I  hardly  know  how  to  describe 
it.  A  man  comes  before  me — a  foreigner — and  in  a  dress 
belonging  to  some  monastic  order,  a  brown  robe  of  coarse 
cloth  or  flannel,  with  a  rope  round  his  waist  and  beads 
hanging,  and  bare  feet  and  a  shaved  head.  He  is  dragging 
a  picture  on  to  the  platform,  a  very  large  painting  in  a 
frame,  and  it  looks  to  me  like  a  portrait  of  himself,  kneeling 
on  a  carpet  of  burning  wood.  No  !  I  am  wrong.  The 
man  tells  me  the  picture  is  not  a  portrait  of  himself,  but  of 
the  founder  of  his  Order,  and  it  is  in  the  possession  of  some 
people  in  this  hall  to-night.  The  man  tells  me  to  tell 
these  people  that  it  was  his  spirit  that  influenced  them  to 
buy  this  painting  at  some  place  over  the  water,  and  he  did 
so  in  order  that  they  might  keep  it  in  remembrance  of 
what  Lhey  have  done  for  him.  And  he  desires  that  they 
shall  hang  that  picture  in  some  room  where  they  may  see 
it  every  day,  that  they  may  never  forget  the  help  which 
spirits  on  this  earth  may  render  by  their  prayers  to  spirits 
that  have  passed  away.  And  he  offers  them  through  me 
his  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  assistance  given  him,  and  he 
says  the  day  is  not  far  off  when  lie  shall  pray  for  himself 
and  for  them,  that  their  kindness  may  return  into  their  own 
bosoms." 


The  oil  painting  reached  England  in  safety  some  weeks 
afterwards,  and  was  hung  over  the  mantel- piece  in  our 
dining-room,  where  it  remained,  a  familiar  object  to  all 
our  personal  acquaintances. 


lo8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  MISS  SHOWERS. 

Some  time  before  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Miss 
Showers,  I  heard,  through  friends  hiving  in  tlie  west  of 
England,  of  the  mysterious  and  marvellous  powers  possessed 
by  a  young  lady  of  their  acquaintance,  who  was  followed 
by  voices  in  the  air,  which  held  conversations  with  her, 
and  the  owners  of  which  were  said  to  have  made  them- 
selves visible.  I  listened  with  curiosity,  the  more  so,  as 
my  informants  utterly  disbelieved  in  Spiritualism,  and 
thought  the  phenomena  were  due  to  trickery.  At  the  same 
time  I  conceived  a  great  desire  to  see  the  girl  of  sixteen, 
who,  for  no  gain  or  apparent  object  of  her  own,  was  so 
clever  as  to  mystify  everyone  around  her  ;  and  when  she 
and  her  mother  came  to  London,  I  was  amongst  the  first 
to  beg  for  an  introduction,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
experiences  I  had  with  her.  She  was  the  first  private 
medium  through  whom  my  personal  friends  returned  to 
converse  with  me  ;  and  no  one  but  a  Spiritualist  can  ap- 
preciate the  blessing  of  spiritual  communications  through 
a  source  that  is  above  the  breath  of  suspicion,  I  have 
already  written  at  length  about  Miss  Showers  in"T]ie 
story  of  John  Powles."  She  was  a  child,  compared  to  my- 
self, whose  life  had  hardly  commenced  when  mine  was 
virtually  over,  and  neither  she,  nor  any  member  of  her 
family,  had  ever  had  an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted 
with  even  the  names  of  my  former  friends.  Yet  (as  1  have 
related)  John  Powles  made  Miss  Showers  his  especial 
mouthpiece,  and  my  daughter  •'  Florence  "  (then  a  little 
child)  also  appeared  through  her,  though  at  long  intervals, 
and  rather  timidly.  Her  own  controls,  however,  or  cabinet 
spirits  (as  they  call  them  in  America) — i.e.,  such  spirits  as 
are  always  about  the  medium,  and  help  the  strangers  to 
appear — "  Peter,"  "  Florence,"  "  Lenore,"  and  "  Sally," 
were  very  familiar  with  me,  and  afforded  me  such  facilities 
of  testing  their  medium  as  do  not  often  fall  to  the  lot  of 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  109 

inquirers.  Indeed,  at  one  time,  they  always  requested  that 
I  should  be  present  at  their  seances.,  so  that  I  considered 
myself  to  be  highly  favored.  And  I  may  mention  here 
that  Miss  Showers  and  I  were  so  much  en  rapport  that  her 
manifestations  were  always  much  stronger  in  my  presence. 
We  could  not  sit  next  each  other  at  an  ordinary  tea  or 
supper  table,  when  we  had  no  thought  of,  or  desire  to  hold 
a  seance,  without  manifestations  occurring  in  the  full  light. 
A  hand,  Oiat  did  not  belong  to  either  of  us,  would  make 
itself  apparent  under  the  table-cloth  between  us — a  hand 
with  power  to  grasp  ours — or  our  feet  would  be  squeezed 
or  kicked  beneath  the  table,  or  fingers  would  suddenly 
appear,  and  whisk  the  food  off  our  plates.  Some  of  their 
jests  were  inconvenient.  I  have  had  the  whole  contents 
of  a  tumbler,  which  I  was  raising  to  my  lips,  emptied  over 
my  dress.  It  was  generally  known  that  our  powers  were 
sympathetic,  and  at  last  "  Peter  "  gave  me  leave,  or,  rather, 
ordered  me  to  sit  in  the  cabinet  with  "  Rosie,"  whilst  the 
manifestations  went  on  outside.  He  used  to  say  he  didn't 
care  for  me  any  more  than  if  I  had  been  "  a  spirit  myself." 
One  evening  "  Peter  "  called  me  into  the  cabinet  (whicli 
was  simply  a  large  box  cupboard  at  one  end  of  the  dining- 
room)  before  the  seafice  hcgd.n,  and  told  me  to  sit  down  at 
the  medium's  feet  and  *'  be  a  good  girl  and  keep  quiet." 
Miss  Showers  was  in  a  low  chair,  and  I  sat  with  my  arms 
resting  on  her  lap.  She  did  not  become  entranced,  and 
we  talked  the  whole  time  together.  Presently,  without 
any  warning,  two  figures  stood  beside  us.  I  could  not 
have  said  where  they  came  from.  I  neither  saw  them  rise 
from  the  floor  nor  descend  from  the  ceiling.  There  was 
no  beginning  to  their  appearance.  In  a  moment  they  were 
simply  there — "  Peter  "  and  "  Florence  "  (not  my  child, 
but  Miss  Showers'  control  of  the  same  names). 

"  Peter  "  sent  "  Florence  "  out  to  the  audience,  where 
we  heard  her  speaking  to  them  and  their  remarks  upon 
her  (there  being  only  a  thin  curtain  hung  before  the  en- 
trance of  the  cabinet),  but  he  stayed  with  us  himself.  We 
could  not  see  him  distinctly  in  the  dim  light,  but  we  could 
distinctly  hear  and  feel  him.  He  changed  our  ornaments 
and  ribbons,  and  pulled  the  hair-pins  out  of  our  hair,  and 
made  comments  on  what  was  going  on  outside.  After  a 
while  "Florence"  returned  to  get  more  power,  and  both 
spirits  spoke  to  and  touched  us  at  the  same  time.     During 


no  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  whole  of  tliis  seance  my  arms  rested  on  Miss  Showers' 
lap,  and  she  was  awake  and  talking  to  me  about  the 
spirits. 

One  evening,  at  a  sitting  at  Mr.  Luxmore's  house  in 
Hyde  Park  Square,  the  spirit  "  Florence  "  had  been  walk- 
ing amongst  the  audience  in  the  lighted  front  drawing- 
room  for  a  considerable  time — even  sitting  at  the  piano 
and  accompanying  herself  whilst  she  sung  us  a  song  in 
what  she  called  "  the  planetary  language."  She  greatly 
resembled  her  medium  on  that  occasion,  and  several  per- 
sons present  remarked  that  she  did  so.  I  suppose  the  in- 
ferred doubt  annoyed  her,  for  before  she  finally  left  us  she 
asked  for  a  light,  and  a  small  oil  lamp  was  brought  to  her 
which  she  placed  in  my  hand,  telling  me  to  follow  her  and 
look  at  her  medium,  which  1  accordingly  did.  "  Florence  " 
led  the  way  into  the  back  drawing-room,  where  I  found 
Miss  Showers  reposing  in  an  arm-chair.  The  first  sight  of 
her  terrified  me.  For  the  purpose  of  making  any  change 
in  her  dress  as  difficult  as  possible,  she  wore  a  high,  tight- 
fitting  black  velvet  frock,  fastened  at  the  back,  and  high 
Hessian  boots,  with  innumerable  buttons.  But  she  now 
appeared  to  be  shrunk  to  half  her  usual  size,  and  the  dress 
hung  loosely  on  her  figure.  Her  arms  had  disappeared, 
but  putting  my  hands  up  the  dress  sleeves,  I  found  them 
diminished  to  the  size  of  those  of  a  little  child — the  fingers 
reaching  only  to  where  the  elbows  had  been.  The  same 
miracle  had  happened  to  her  feet,  which  only  occupied 
half  her  boots.  She  looked  in  fact  like  the  mummy  of  a 
girl  of  four  or  six  years  old.  The  spirit  told  me  to  feel  her 
face.  The  forehead  was  dry,  rough,  and  burning  hot,  but 
from  the  chin  water  was  dropping  freely  on  to  the  bosom 
of  her  dress.  "  Florence  "  said  to  me,  "I  wanted  j^^//  to 
see  her,  because  I  know  you  are  brave  enough  to  tell 
people  what  you  have  seen." 

There  was  a  marked  difference  in  the  personality  of  the 
two  influences  "Florence"  and  "  Lenore,"  although  both 
at  times  resembled  Miss  Showers,  and  sometimes  more 
than  others.  "  Florence  "  was  taller  than  her  medium,  and 
a  very  beautiful  woman.  "  Lenore  "  was  much  shorter 
and  smaller,  and  not  so  pretty,  but  more  vivacious  and 
pert.  By  the  invitation  of  Mrs.  Macdougal  Gregory,  I 
attended  several  seafices  with  Miss  Showers  at  her  resi- 
dence  in   Green   Street,    when    these    spirits    appeared. 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  iii 

"  Lenore  "  was  fond  of  saying  that  she  wouldn't  or  couldn't 
come  out  unless  /  held  her  hand,  or  put  my  arm  round  her 
waist.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  care  for  the  distinction, 
for  this  influence  was  very  peculiar  in  some  things,  and  to 
me  she  always  appeared  "  uncanny,"  and  to  leave  an  un- 
pleasant feeling  behind  her.  She  was  seldom  completely 
formed,  and  would  hold  up  a  foot  which  felt  like  wet  clay, 
and  had  no  toes  to  it,  or  not  the  proper  quantity.  On 
occasions,  too,  there  was  a  charnel-house  smell  about  her, 
as  if  she  had  been  buried  a  few  weeks  and  dug  up  again, 
an  odor  which  I  have  never  smelt  from  any  materialized 
spirit  before  or  after.  One  evening  at  Mrs.  Gregory's, 
when  "  Lenore "  had  insisted  upon  walking  round  the 
circle  supported  by  my  arm,  I  nearly  fainted  from  the 
smell.  It  resembled  nothing  but  that  of  a  putrid  corpse, 
and  when  she  returned  to  the  cabinet,  I  was  compelled  to 
leave  the  room  and  retch  from  the  nausea  it  had  caused 
me.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  sitters  called 
"Lenore  "  so  many  times  back  into  the  circle,  that  all  the 
power  was  gone,  and  she  was  in  danger  of  melting  away 
before  their  eyes.  Still  they  entreated  her  to  remain  with 
them  a  little  longer.  At  last  she  grew  impatient,  and 
complained  to  me  of  their  unreasonableness.  She  was  then 
raised  from  the  floor — actually  floating  just  outside  the 
curtain — and  she  asked  me  to  put  my  hands  up  her  skirts 
and  convince  myself  that  she  was  half-dematerialized.  I 
did  as  she  told  me,  and  felt  that  she  had  no  legs,  although 
she  had  been  walkmg  round  the  room  a  few  minutes  before. 
I  could  feel  nothing  but  the  trunk  of  a  body,  which  was 
completely  lifted  off  the  ground.  Her  voice,  too,  had 
grown  faint  and  her  face  indistinct,  and  in  another  moment 
she  had  totally  disappeared. 

One  evening  at  Mrs.  Gregory's,  after  the  seance 
was  concluded,  "  Florence "  looked  round  the  cur- 
tain and  called  to  me  to  come  inside  of  it.  I  did  so 
and  found  myself  in  total  darkness.  I  said,  "  What's 
the  good  of  my  coming  here  ?  I  can't  see  anything." 
"  Florence  "  took  me  by  one  hand,  and  answered,  "  I  will 
lead  you  !  Don't  be  afraid."  Then  some  one  else  grasped 
my  other  hand,  and  "  Peter's  "  voice  said,  "  We've  got  you 
safe.  We  want  you  to  feel  the  medium."  The  two  figures 
led  me  between  them  to  the  sofa  on  which  Miss  Showers  was 
lying.  They  passed  my  hand  all  over  her  head  and  body. 


112  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

I  felt,  as  before,  her  hands  and  feet  shrunk  to  half  their 
usual  size,  but  her  heart  appeared  to  have  become  propor- 
tionately increased.  When  my  hand  was  placed  upon  it, 
it  was  leaping  up  and  down  violently,  and  felt  like  a  rabbit 
or  some  other  live  animal  bounding  in  her  bosom.  Her 
brain  was  burning  as  before,  but  her  extremities  were  icy 
cold.  There  was  no  doubt  at  all  of  the  abnormal  condi- 
tion into  which  the  medium  had  been  thrown,  in  order  to 
produce  these  strong  physical  manifestations  which  were 
borrowed,  for  the  time  being,  from  her  life,  and  could 
never  (so  they  informed  me)  put  the  whole  of  what  they 
borrowed  back  again.  This  seems  to  account  for  the  in- 
variable deterioration  of  health  and  strength  that  follows 
physical  manifestations  in  both  sexes.  These  were  the 
grounds  alone  on  which  they  explained  to  me  the  fact  that, 
on  several  occasions,  when  the  materialized  spirit  has 
been  violently  seized  and  held  apart  from  the  medium,  it 
has  been  found  to  have  become,  or  been  changed  into  the 
medium,  and  always  with  injury  to  the  latter — as  in  the 
case  of  Florence  Cook  being  seized  by  Mr.  Volckman  and 
Sir  George  Sitwell.  Mr.  Volckman  concluded  because 
when  he  seized  the  spirit  "  Katie  King,"  he  found  he  was 
holding  Florence  Cook,  that  the  latter  must  have  imper- 
sonated the  former;  yet  I  shall  tell  you  in  iis  proper 
place  how  I  have  sat  in  the  same  room  with  "  Katie 
King,"  whilst  Miss  Cook  lay  in  a  trance  between  us.  The 
medium  nearly  lost  her  life  on  the  occasion  alluded  to, 
from  the  sudden  disturbance  of  the  mysterious  link  that 
bound  her  to  the  spirit.  I  have  had  it  from  the  lips  of  the 
Countess  of  Caithness,  who  was  one  of  the  sitters,  and 
stayed  with  Miss  Cook  till  she  was  better,  that  she  was  in 
convulsions  the  whole  night  after,  and  that  it  was  some 
time  before  they  believed  she  would  recover.  If  a  medium 
could  simulate  a  materialized  spirit,  it  is  hardly  likely  that 
she  would  (or  could)  simulate  convulsions  with  a  medical 
man  standing  by  her  bedside.  "  You  see,"  said  Miss 
Showers'  "  Florence,"  whilst  pointing  out  to  me  the  de- 
creased size  of  her  medium  under  trance,  "  that  *  Rosie  '  is 
half  her  usual  size  and  weight,  /have  borrowed  the  other 
half  from  her,  which,  combined  with  contributions  from  the 
sitters,  goes  to  make  up  the  body  in  which  I  shew  myself 
to  you.  If  you  seize  and  hold  me  tight,  you  are  holding 
her,  /.^,,  half  of  her,  and  you  increase  the  action  of  the 


THERE    IS  NO   DEATH.  113 

vital  half  to  such  a  degree  that,  if  the  two  halves  did  not 
reunite,  you  would  kill  her.  You  see  that  I  can  detach 
certain  particles  from  her  organism  for  my  own  use,  and 
when  I  deniaterialize,  I  restore  these  particles  to  her,  and 
she  becomes  once  more  her  normal  size.  You  only  hurry 
the  reunion  by  violently  detaining  me,  so  as  to  injure  her. 
But  you  might  drive  her  mad,  or  kill  her  in  the  attempt, 
because  the  particles  of  brain,  or  body,  might  become  in- 
jured by  such  a  violent  collision.  If  you  believe  I  can  take 
them  from  her  (as  you  see  I  do)  in  order  to  render  my  in- 
visible body  visible  to  you,  why  can't  you  believe  I  can 
make  them  fly  together  again  on  the  approach  of  danger. 
And  granted  the  one  power,  I  see  no  difficulty  in  acknow- 
ledging the  other." 

One  day  Mrs.  Showers  invited  me  to  assist  at  a 
sea?ice  to  be  given  expressly  for  friends  living  at  a  dis- 
tance. When  I  reached  the  house,  however,  I  found 
the  friends  were  unable  to  be  present,  and  the  meeting 
was  adjourned.  Mrs.  Showers  apologized  for  the  altera- 
tion of  plan,  but  I  was  glad  of  it.  I  had  often  sat  with 
*'  Rosie  "  in  company  with  others,  and  I  wanted  to  sit  with 
her  quite  alone,  or  rather  to  sit  with  her  in  a  room  quite 
alone,  and  see  what  would  spontaneously  occur,  without 
any  solicitation  on  our  parts.  We  accordingly  annexed  the 
drawing-room  for  our  sole  use — locked  the  door,  extin- 
guished ♦^^he  lights,  and  sat  down  on  a  sofa  side  by  side,  with 
our  arms  round  each  other.  The  manifestations  that  followed 
were  not  all  nice  ones.  They  formed  an  experience  to  be 
passed  through  once,  but  not  willingly  repeated,  and  I 
should  not  relate  them  here,  excepting  that  they  afford  so 
strong  a  proof  that  they  were  produced  by  a  power  outside 
and  entirely  distinct  from  our  own — a  power,  which  having 
once  called  into  action,  we  had  no  means  of  repressing. 
We  had  sat  in  the  dark  for  some  minutes,  without  hearing 
or  seeing  anything,  when  I  thoughtlessly  called  out, 
"Now,  Peter,  do  your  worst,"  and  extending  my  arms, 
singing,  "  Come  !  for  my  arms  are  empty."  In  a  moment 
a  large,  heavy  figure  fell  with  such  force  into  my  out- 
stretched arms  as  to  bruise  my  shoulder — it  seemed  like  a 
form  made  of  wood  or  iron,  rather  than  flesh  and  blood — 
and  the  rough  treatment  that  ensued  for  both  of  us  is  almost 
beyond  description.  It  seemed  as  if  the  room  were  filled 
with  materialized  creatures,  who  were  determined  to  let  us 

8 


114  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

know  they  were  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Our  faces  and 
hands  were  slapped,  our  hair  pulled  down,  and  our  clothes 
nearly  torn  off  our  backs.  My  silk  skirt  being  separate 
from  the  bodice  was  torn  off  at  the  waistband,  and  the 
trimming  ripped  from  it,  and  Miss  Showers'  muslin  dress 
was  also  much  damaged.  We  were  both  thoroughly 
frightened,  but  no  expostulations  or  entreaties  had  any 
effect  with  our  tormentors.  At  the  same  time  we  heard 
the  sound  as  of  a  multitude  of  large  birds  or  bats  swooping 
about  the  room."  The  fluttering  of  wings  was  incessant, 
and  we  could  hear  them  "  scrooping  "  up  and  down  the 
walls.  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion,  "  Rosie  "  was 
whisked  out  of  my  arms  (for  fright  had  made  us  cling 
tighter  than  ever  together)  and  planted  on  the  top  of  a 
table  at  some  distance  from  me,  at  which  she  was  so 
frightened  she  began  to  cry,  and  I  called  out,  "  Powles, 
where  are  you  ?  Can't  you  stop  them  ?  "  My  appeal  was 
heard.  Peter's  voice  exclaimed,  "  Hullo  !  here's  Powles 
coming  !"  and  all  the  noise  ceased.  We  heard  the  advent 
of  my  friend,  and  in  another  moment  he  was  smoothing 
down  the  ruffled  hair  and  arranging  the  disordered  dresses 
and  telling  me  to  light  the  gas  and  not  be  frightened.  As 
soon  as  I  could  I  obeyed  his  directions  and  found  Rosie 
sitting  doubled  up  in  the  centre  of  the  table,  but  the  rest 
of  the  room  and  furniture  in  its  usual  condition.  "  Peter  " 
and  his  noisy  crowd  had  vanished — so  had  "  Powles,"  and 
there  was  nothing  but  our  torn  skirts  and  untidy  appear- 
ance to  prove  that  we  had  not  been  having  an  unholy 
dream.  "  Peter  "  is  not  a  wicked  spirit — far  from  it — 
but  he  is  a  very  earthly  and  frivolous  one.  But  when  we 
consider  that  nine-tenths  of  the  spirits  freed  from  the 
flesh  are  both  earthly  and  frivolous  (if  not  worse),  I  know 
not  what  right  we  have  to  expect  to  receive  back  angels  in 
their  stead. 

At  one  time  when  my  sister  Blanche  (who  was 
very  sceptical  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  occurrences 
I  related  having  taken  place  before  me)  was  staying  in  my 
house  at  Bayswater,  I  asked  Miss  Showers  if  she  would 
give  us  a  stance  in  my  own  home,  to  which  she  kindly  as- 
sented. This  was  an  unusual  concession  on  her  part, 
because,  in  consequence  of  several  accidents  and  scandals 
that  had  occurred  from  media  being  forcibly  detained  (as 
I  have  just  alluded  to),  her  mother  was  naturally  averse  to 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  115 

her  sitting  anywhere  but  in  their  own  circle.  However,  on 
my  promising  to  invite  no  strangers,  Mrs.  Showers  herself 
brought  her  daughter  to  my  house.  We  had  made  no 
preparation  for  the  seance  except  by  opening  part  of  the 
folding  doors  between  the  dining-room  and  study,  and 
hanging  a  curtain  over  the  aperture.  But  I  had  carefully 
locked  the  door  of  the  study,  so  that  there  should  be  no 
egress  from  it  excepting  through  the  dining-room,  and  had 
placed  against  the  locked  door  a  heavy  writing-table  laden 
with  books  and  ornaments  to  make  "  assurance  doubly 
sure."  We  sat  first  in  the  drawing-room  above,  where 
there  was  a  piano.  The  lights  were  extinguished,  and 
Miss  Showers  sat  down  to  the  instrument  and  played  the 
accompaniment  to  a  very  simple  melody,  "  Under  tlie 
willow  she's  sleeping."  Four  voices,  sometimes  alone  and 
sometimes  all  together,  accompanied  her  own.  One  was  a 
baritone,  supposed  to  proceed  from  "  Peter,"  the  second, 
a  soprano,  from  "  Lenore."  The  third  was  a  rumbling 
bass,  from  an influejice  who  called  himself  "The  Vicar  of 
Croydon,"  and  sung  in  a  fat,  unctuous,  and  conceited  voice ; 
and  the  fourth  was  a  cracked  and  quavering  treble,  from 
another  spirit  called  "  The  Abbess."  These  were  the 
voices,  Mrs.  Showers  told  me,  that  first  followed  her  daugh- 
ter about  the  house  in  Devonshire,  and  gained  her  such 
an  unenviable  notoriety  there.  The  four  voices  were  per- 
fectly distinct  from  one  another,  and  sometimes  blended 
most  ludicrously  and  tripped  each  other  up  in  a  way  which 
made  the  song  a  medley — upon  which  each  one  would 
declare  it  was  the  fault  of  the  other.  "  The  Vicar  of  Croy- 
don "  always  required  a  great  deal  of  solicitation  before  he 
could  be  induced  to  exhibit  his  powers,  but  having  once 
commenced,  it  was  difficult  to  make  him  leave  off"  again, 
whereas  "  The  Abbess  "  was  always  complaining  that  they 
would  not  allow  her  to  sing  the  solos.  An  infant's  voice 
also  sung  some  baby  songs  in  a  sweet  childish  treble,  but 
she  was  also  very  shy  and  seldom  was  heard,  in  comparison 
with  the  rest.  "  All  ventriloquism  !  "  I  hear  some  reader 
cry.  If  so,  Miss  Showers  ought  to  have  made  a  fortune  in 
exhibiting  her  talent  in  public.  I  have  heard  the  best 
ventriloquists  in  the  world,  but  I  never  heard  one  who 
could  produce  _/i77;r  voices  at  the  same  time. 

After  the  musical  portion  of  the  stance   was  over,  we 
descended  to  the  dining-room,  where  the  gas  was  burning, 


Il6  THERE  IS  NO   DEATH. 

and  the  medium  passed  through  it  to  the  secured  study, 
where  a  mattress  was  laid  upon  the  floor  for  her  accommo- 
dation. "  Florence "  was  the  first  to  appear,  tall  and 
beautiful  in  appearance,  and  with  upraised  eyes  like  a  nun. 
She  measured  her  height  against  the  wall  with  me,  and  we 
found  she  was  the  taller  of  the  two  by  a  couple  of  inches, — 
my  height  being  five  feet  six,  the  medium's  five  feet,  and 
the  si:)irit's  five  feet  eight,  an  abnormal  height  for  a  woman. 
"  Lenore  "  came  next,  very  short  indeed,  looking  like  a 
child  of  four  or  six,  but  she  grew  before  our  eyes,  until  her 
head  was  on  a  level  with  mine.  She  begged  us  all  to 
observe  that  she  had  7iot  got  on  "  Rosie's  "  petticoat  body. 
She  said  she  had  borrowed  it  on  one  occasion,  and  Mrs. 
Showers  had  recognized  it,  and  slipped  upstairs  in  the 
middle  of  the  seance  and  found  it  missing  from  her 
daughter's  chest  of  drawers,  and  that  she  had  been  so 
angry  in  consequence  (fearing  Rosie's  honor  might  be 
impeached)  that  she  said  if  "  Lenore  "  did  not  promise 
never  to  do  so  again,  she  should  not  be  allowed  to  assist 
at  the  seafices  at  all.  So  Miss  "  Lenore,"  in  rather  a  pert 
and  defiant  mood,  begged  Mrs.  Showers  to  see  that  what 
she  wore  was  her  own  property,  and  not  that  of  the  medium. 
She  was  succeeded  on  that  occasion  by  a  strange  being, 
totally  different  from  the  other  two,  who  called  herself 
"  Sally,"  and  said  she  had  been  a  cook.  She  was  one  of 
those  extraordinary  influences  for  whose  return  to  earth  one 
can  hardly  account  ;  quick,  and  clever,  and  amusing  as  she 
could  be,  but  with  an  unrefined  wit  and  manner,  and  to  all 
appearance,  more  earthly-minded  than  ourselves.  But  do 
we  not  often  ask  the  same  question  with  respect  to  those 
still  existent  here  below  ?  What  were  they  born  for  ? 
What  good  do  they  do  ?  Why  were  they  ever  permitted 
to  come  ?  God,  without  whose  permission  nothing  happens, 
alone  can  answer  it. 

We  had  often  to  tease  "  Peter  "  to  materialize  and  show 
himself,  but  he  invariably  refused,  or  postponed  the  work  to 
another  occasion.  His  excuse  was  that  the  medium  being 
so  small,  he  could  not  obtain  sufficient  power  from  her  to 
make  himself  appear  as  a  big  man,  and  he  didn't  like  to 
come,  "  looking  like  a  girl  in  a  billycock  hat."  "  I  came 
once  to  Mrs.  Showers,"  he  said,  "  and  she  declared  I  was 
*  Rosie '  dressed  up,  and  so  I  have  resolved  never  to  show 
myself  again."      At   the  close  of  that   seance,   however, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  Wj 

"  Peter  "  asked  me  to  go  into  the  study  and  see  him  wake 
the  medium.  When  I  entered  it  and  made  my  way  up  to 
the  mattress,  I  found  Miss  Showers  extended  on  it  in  a 
deep  sleep,  whilst  **  Peter,"  materiah'zed,  sat  at  her  feet. 
He  made  me  sit  down  next  to  him  and  take  his  hand  and 
feel  his  features  with  my  own  hand.  Then  he  proceeded 
to  rouse  "  Rosie  "  by  shaking  her  and  calling  her  by  name, 
holding  me  by  one  hand,  as  he  did  so.  As  Miss  Showers 
yawned  and  woke  up  from  her  trance,  the  hand  slipped 
from  mine,  and  "  Peter  "  evaporated.  When  she  sat  up  I 
said  to  her  gently,  "  I  am  here  !  Peter  brought  me  in  and 
was  sitting  on  the  mattress  by  my  side  till  just  this  mo- 
ment." "  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  his  voice  close  to  my  ear, 
"  and  I'm  here  still,  my  dears,  though  you  can't  see  me." 

Who  can  account  for  such  things  ?  I  have  witnessed 
them  over  and  over  again,  yet  I  am  unable,  even  to  this 
day,  to  do  more  than  believe  and  wonder. 


Il8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  WILLIAM  EGLINTON. 

In  the  stories  I  have  related  of"  Emily  "  and  "  The  Monk " 
I  have  alluded  freely  to  the  wonderful  powers  exhibited  by 
William  Eglinton,  but  the  marvels  there  spoken  of  were  by 
no  means  the  only  ones  I  have  witnessed  through  his 
mediumship.  At  the  seance  which  produced  the  appari- 
tion of  my  sister  Emily,  Mr.  Eglinton's  control  "Joey" 
made  himself  very  familiar.  "  Joey  "  is  a  remarkably  small 
man — perhaps  two-thirds  lighter  in  weight  than  the  me- 
dium— and  looks  more  like  a  little  jockey  than  anything 
else,  though  he  says  he  was  a  clown  whilst  in  this  world, 
and  claims  to  be  the  spirit  of  the  immortal  Joe  Grimaldi. 
He  has  always  appeared  to  us  clothed  in  a  tight-fitting 
white  dress  like  a  woven  jersey  suit,  which  makes  him  look 
still  smaller  than  he  is.  He  usually  keeps  up  a  continuous 
chatter,  whether  visible  or  invisible,  and  is  one  of  the 
cleverest  and  kindest  controls  I  know.  He  is  also  very 
devotional,  for  which  the  public  will  perhaps  give  him  as 
little  credit  now  as  they  did  whilst  he  was  on  earth.  On 
the  first  occasion  of  our  meeting  in  the  Russell  Street 
Rooms  he  did  not  show  himself  until  quite  the  last,  but  he 
talked  incessantly  of  and  for  the  other  spirits  that  appeared. 
My  sister  was,  as  I  have  said,  the  first  to  show  herself — 
then  came  an  extraordinary  apparition.  On  the  floor,  about 
three  feet  from  the  cabinet,  appeared  a  head — only  the 
head  and  throat  of  a  dark  man,  with  black  beard  and 
moustaches,  surmounted  by  the  white  turban  usually  worn 
by  natives.  It  did  not  speak,  but  the  eyes  rolled  and  the 
lips  moved,  as  if  it  tried  to  articulate,  but  without  success. 
"  Joey  "  said  the  spirit  came  for  Colonel  Lean,  and  was 
that  of  a  foreigner  who  had  been  decapitated.  Colonel 
Lean  could  not  recognize  the  features  ;  but,  strange  to  say, 
he  had  been  present  at  the  beheading  of  two  natives  in 
Japan  who  had  been  found  guilty  of  murdering  some  Eng- 
lish oflScers,  and  we  concluded  from  "  Joey's  "  description 


THERE    IS  NO   DEATH.  119 

that  this  must  be  the  head  of  one  of  them.  I  knelt  down 
on  the  floor  and  put  my  face  on  a  level  with  that  of  the 
spirit,  that  I  might  assure  myself  there  was  no  body 
attached  to  it  and  concealed  by  the  curtain  of  the  cabinet, 
and  I  can  affirm  that  it  was  a  head  only,  resting  on  the 
neck — that  its  eyes  moved  and  its  features  worked,  but 
that  there  was  nothing  further  on  the  floor.  I  questioned 
it,  and  it  evidently  tried  hard  to  speak  in  return.  The 
mouth  opened  and  the  tongue  was  thrust  out,  and  made  a 
sort  of  dumb  sound,  but  was  unable  to  form  any  words, 
and  after  a  while  the  head  sunk  through  the  floor  and  dis- 
appeared. If  this  was  not  one  of  the  pleasantest  appari- 
tions I  have  seen,  it  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable. 
There  was  no  possibility  of  trickery  or  deception.  The 
decapitated  head  rested  in  full  sight  of  the  audience,  and 
had  all  the  peculiarities  of  the  native  appearance  and  ex- 
pression. After  this  the  figures  of  two  or  three  English- 
men came,  friends  of  others  of  the  audience — then  "Joey  " 
said  he  would  teach  us  how  to  "  make  muslin."  He  walked 
riglit  outside  the  cabinet,  a  quaint  little  figure,  not  much 
bigger  than  a  boy  of  twelve  or  thirteen,  with  a  young,  old 
face,  and  dressed  in  the  white  suit  I  have  described.  He 
sat  down  by  me  and  commenced  to  toss  his  hands  in  the 
air,  as  though  he  were  juggling  with  balls,  saying  the 
while,  "  This  is  the  way  we  make  ladies'  dresses."  As  he 
did  so,  a  small  quantity  of  muslin  appeared  in  his  hands, 
which  he  kept  on  moving  in  the  same  manner,  whilst  the 
flimsy  fabric  increased  and  increased  before  our  eyes,  until 
it  rose  in  billows  of  muslin  above  *'  Joey's  "  head  and  fell 
over  his  body  to  his  feet,  and  enveloped  him  until  he  was 
completely  hidden  from  view.  He  kept  on  chattering  till 
the  last  moment  from  under  the  heap  of  snowy  muslin, 
telling  us  to  be  sure  and  "  remember  how  he  made  ladies' 
dresses  " — when,  all  of  a  sudden,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
the  heap  of  muslin  rose  into  the  air,  and  before  us  stood 
the  tall  figure  of  "  Abdullah,"  Mr.  Eglinton's  Eastern  guide. 
There  had  been  no  darkness,  no  pause  to  effect  this  change. 
The  muslin  had  remained  on  the  spot  where  it  was  fabri- 
cated until  "Joey  "  evaporated,  and  "Abdullah"  rose  up 
from  beneath  it.  Now  "  Abdullah  "  is  not  a  spirit  to  be 
concealed  easily.  He  is  six  foot  two — a  great  height  for 
a  native — and  his  high  turban  adds  to  his  stature.  He  is 
a  very  handsome  man,  with  an  aquiline  nose  and  bright 


I20  THERE  IS  NO   DEATH. 

black  eyes — a  Persian,  I  believe,  by  birth,  and  naturally 
dark  in  complexion.  He  does  not  speak  English,  but 
"  salaams  "  continually,  and  will  approach  the  sitters  when 
requested,  and  let  them  examine  the  jewels,  of  which  he 
wears  a  large  quantity  in  his  turban  and  ears  and  round 
his  throat,  or  to  show  them  and  let  them  feel  that  he  has 
lost  one  arm,  the  stump  being  plainly  discernible  through 
his  thin  clothing.  "  Abdullah  "  possesses  all  the  character- 
istics of  the  Eastern  nation,  which  are  unmistakable  to  one 
who,  like  myself,  has  been  familiar  with  them  in  the  flesh. 
His  features  are  without  doubt  those  of  a  Persian;  so  is 
his  complexion.  His  figure  is  long  and  lithe  and  supple, 
as  that  of  a  cat,  and  he  can  bend  to  the  ground  and  rise 
again  with  the  utmost  ease  and  grace.  Anybody  who  could 
pretend  for  a  moment  to  suppose  that  Mr.  Eglinton  by 
"  making  up  "  could  personate  "  Abdullah  "  must  be  a  fool. 
It  would  be  an  impossibility,  even  were  he  given  unlimited 
time  and  assistance,  to  dress  for  the  character.  There  is  a 
peculiar  boneless  elasticity  in  the  movements  of  a  native 
which  those  who  have  lived  in  tlie  East  know  that  no  Eng- 
lishmen can  imitate  successfully.  "  Abdullah's  "hand  and 
feet  also  possess  all  the  characteristics  of  liis  nationality, 
being  narrow,  long  and  nerveless,  although  I  have  heard 
that  he  can  give  rather  too  good  a  grip  with  his  one  hand 
when  he  chooses  to  exert  his  power  or  to  show  his  dislike 
to  any  particular  sitter.  He  has  always,  however,  shown 
the  utmost  urbanity  towards  us,  but  he  is  not  a  particu- 
larly friendly  or  familiar  spirit.  When  "Abdullah"  had 
retired  on  this  occasion,  "  Joey  "  drew  back  the  curtain 
that  shaded  the  cabinet,  and  showed  us  his  medium  and 
himself.  There  sat  Mr.  Eglinton  attired  in  evening  dress, 
with  the  front  of  his  shirt  as  smooth  and  spotless  as  when 
it  left  the  laundress'  hands,  lying  back  in  his  chair  in  a 
deep  sleep,  whilst  little  Joey  sat  astride  his  knee,  his  white 
suit  contrasting  strangely  with  his  medium's  black  trousers. 
Whilst  in  this  position  he  kissed  Mr.  Eglinton  several 
times,  telling  him  to  wake  up,  and  not  look  so  sulky  ;  then, 
having  asked  if  we  all  saw  him  distinctly,  and  were  satisfied 
he  was  not  the  medium,  he  bade  God  bless  us,  and  the 
curtains  closed  once  more  upon  this  incomprehensible 
scene.  Mr.  Eglinton  subsequently  became  an  intimate 
friend  of  ours,  and  we  often  had  the  pleasure  of  sitting 
with  him,  but  we  never  saw  anything  more  wonderful  (to 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  121 

my  mind)  than  we  did  on  our  first  acquaintance.  When 
he  accompanied  us  to  Bruges  (as  told  in  the  history  of  the 
"Monk"),  "Joey"  took  great  trouble  to  prove  to  us  in- 
controvertibly  that  he  is  not  an  "  emanation,"  or  double, 
of  his  medium,  but  a  creature  completely  separate  and 
wholly  distinct.  My  sister's  house  being  built  on  a  very 
old-fashioned  principle,  had  all  the  bedrooms  communica- 
ting with  each  other.  The  entresol  in  which  we  usually 
assembled  formed  the  connecting  link  to  a  series  of  six 
chambers,  all  of  which  opened  into  each  other,  and  the 
entrance  to  the  first  and  last  of  which  was  from  the 
entresol. 

We  put  Mr.  Eglinton  into  No.  i,  locking  the  connecting 
door  with  No.  2,  so  that  he  had  no  e.xit  except  into  our 
circle  as  we  sat  round  the  curtain,  behind  which  we  placed 
his  chair.  "Joey  "  having  shown  himself  outside  the  cur- 
tain, informed  us  he  was  going  through  the  locked  door  at 
the  back  into  our  bedrooms,  Nos.  2,  3  and  4,  and  would 
bring  us  something  from  each  room. 

Accordingly,  in  another  minute  we  heard  his  voice  in  No. 
2,  commenting  on  all  he  saw  there ;  then  he  passed  into 
No.  3,  and  so  on,  making  a  tour  of  the  rooms,  until  he 
appeared  at  the  communicating  door  of  No.  5,  and  threw 
an  article  taken  from  each  room  into  the  entresol.  He 
then  told  us  to  lift  the  curtain  and  inspect  the  medium, 
which  we  did,  finding  him  fast  asleep  in  his  chair,  with  the 
door  behind  him  locked.  "Joey"  then  returned  by  the 
way  he  had  gone,  and  presented  himself  once  more  out- 
side the  cabinet,  the  key  of  the  locked  door  being  all  the 
time  in  our  possession. 

"  Ernest "  is  another  well-known  control  of  Mr.  Eglin- 
ton's,  though  he  seldom  appears,  except  to  give  some  mar- 
vellous test  or  advice.  He  is  a  very  earnest,  deep-feeling 
spirit,  like  his  name,  and  his  symbol  is  a  cross  of  light ; 
sometimes  large  and  sometimes  small,  but  always  bright 
and  luminous.  "  Ernest"  seldom  shows  his  whole  body. 
It  is  generally  only  his  face  that  is  apparent  in  the  midst 
of  the  circle,  a  more  convincing  manifestation  for  the 
sceptic  or  inquirer  than  any  number  of  bodies  which  are 
generally  attributed  to  the  chicanery  of  the  medium. 
"  Ernest "  always  speaks  in  the  direct  voice  in  a  gentle, 
bass  tone,  entirely  distinct  from  "Joey's  "  treble,  and  his 
appearance  is  usually  indicative  of  a  harmonious  and  sue- 


122  THERE   IS-  NO   DEATH. 

cessful  meeting.  "  Dcaisy,"  a  North  American  Indian  girl, 
is  another  control  of  William  Eglinton's,  but  I  have  only 
heard  her  speak  in  trance.  I  do  not  know  which  of  these 
spirits  it  is  who  conducts  the  manifestations  of  writing  on 
the  arm,  with  which  Mr.  Eglinton  is  very  successful ;  some- 
times it  seems  to  be  one,  and  sometimes  the  other.  As  he 
was  sitting  with  our  family  at  supper  one  evening,  I  men- 
tally asked  "Joey"'  to  write  something  on  some  part  of  his 
body  where  his  hand  could  not  reach.  This  was  in  order 
to  prove  that  the  writing  had  not  been  prepared  by  chemi- 
cal means  beforehand,  as  some  people  are  apt  to  assert. 
In  a  short  time  Mr.  Eglinton  was  observed  to  stop  eating, 
and  grow  very  fidgety  and  look  uncomfortable,  and  on 
being  questioned  as  to  the  cause,  he  blushed  and  stammered, 
and  could  give  no  answer.  After  a  while  he  rose  from 
table,  and  asked  leave  to  retire  to  his  room.  The  next 
morning  he  told  us  that  he  had  been  so  uneasy  at  supper, 
it  had  become  impossible  for  him  to  sit  it  out  ;  that  on 
reaching  his  room  he  had  found  that  his  back,  which  irri- 
tated him  as  though  covered  with  a  rash,  had  a  sentence 
ivritteji  across  it,  of  which  he  could  only  make  out  a  few 
words  by  looking  at  it  backwards  in  a  glass  ;  and  as  there 
were  only  ladies  in  the  house  beside  himself,  he  could  not 
call  in  an  interpreter  to  his  assistance.  One  day,  without 
consulting  him,  I  placed  a  small  card  and  a  tiny  piece  of 
black  lead  between  the  leaves  of  a  volume  of  the  Leistcre 
Hour,  and  asked  him  to  hold  the  book  with  me  on  the 
dining  table.  I  never  let  the  book  out  of  my  hand,  and 
it  was  so  thick  that  I  had  difficulty  afterwards  in  finding 
my  card  (from  the  corner  of  which  I  had  torn  a  piece) 
again.  Mr.  Eglinton  sat  with  me  in  the  daylight  with  ihe 
family  about,  and  all  he  did  was  to  place  his  hand  on  mine, 
which  rested  on  the  book.  The  perspiration  ran  down  his 
face  whilst  he  did  so,  but  there  was  no  other  sign  of  power, 
and,  honestly,  I  did  not  expect  to  find  any  writing  on  my 
card.  When  I  had  shaken  it  out  of  the  leaves  of  the  book, 
however,  I  found  a  letter  closely  written  on  it  from  my 
daughter  "  Florence  "  :o  this  effect : — 

"  Dear  Mama, — I  am  so  glad  to  be  able  to  communicate  with  you 
again,  and  to  demonstrate  by  actual  fact  that  I  am  really  present.  Of 
course,  you  quite  understand  that  I  do  not  write  this  myself.  '  Charlie  ' 
is  present  witli  me,  and  so  are  many  more,  and  we  all  unite  in  sending 
you  our  love. 

*'  Your  daughter,  Florencp." 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  123 

Mr.  EgHnton's  mediumship  embraces  various  phases  of 
phenomena,  as  may  be  gathered  from  his  own  relations  of 
them,  and  the  testimony  of  his  friends.  A  narrative  of  his 
spiritual  work,  under  the  title  of  "  'Twixt  two  Worlds," 
has  been  written  and  published  by  Mr.  John  T.  Farmer, 
and  contains  some  exhaustive  descriptions  of,  and  testimo- 
nies to,  his  undoubtedly  wonderful  gifts.  In  it  appear 
several  accounts  written  by  myself,  and  which,  for  the 
benefit  of  such  of  my  readers  as  have  not  seen  the  book  in 
question,  I  will  repeat  here.  The  first  is  that  of  the 
"  Monk,"  given  in  extenso,  as  I  have  given  it  in  the  ele- 
venth chapter  of  tliis  book.  The  second  is  of  a  seance\\t\d 
on  the  5th  September,  1884.  The  circle  consisted  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Stewart,  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Wynch,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Russell-Davies,  Mr.  Morgan,  and  Colonel  Lean  and  my- 
self, and  was  held  in  Mr.  Eglinton's  private  chambers  in 
Quebec  Street.  We  sat  in  the  front  drawing-room,  with 
one  gas-burner  alight,  and  the  door  having  been  properly 
secured,  Mr.  Eglinton  went  into  the  back  room,  which 
was  divided  by  curtains  from  the  front.  He  had  not  left  us 
a  couple  of  minutes  before  a  man  stepped  out  through  the 
portiere,  and  walked  right  into  the  midst  of  us.  He  was 
a  large,  stout  man,  and  very  dark,  and  most  of  the  sitters 
remarked  that  he  had  a  very  peculiar  smell.  No  one 
recognized  him,  and  after  appearing  two  or  three  times  he 
left,  and  was  immediately  succeeded  by  a  woman,  very 
much  like  him,  who  also  had  to  leave  us  without  any  recog- 
nition. These  two  spirits,  before  taking  a  final  leave,  came 
out  together,  and  seemed  to  examine  the  circle  curiously. 
After  a  short  interval  a  much  smaller  and  slighter  man 
came  forward,  and  darted  in  a  peculiar  slouching  attitude 
round  the  circle.  Colonel  Lean  asked  him  to  shake  hands. 
He  replied  by  seizing  his  hand,  and  nearly  dragging  him  off 
his  seat.  He  then  darted  across  the  room,  and  gave  a 
similar  proof  of  his  muscular  power  to  Mr.  Stewart.  But 
when  I  asked  him  to  notice  me,  he  took  my  hand  and 
squeezed  it  firmly  between  his  own.  He  had  scarcely 
disappeared  before  "  Abdullah,"  with  his  one  arm  and  his 
six  feet  two  of  height,  stood  before  us,  and  salaamed  all 
round.  Then  came  my  daughter  Florence,  a  girl  of  nine- 
teen by  that  time,  very  slight  and  feminine  in  appearance. 
She  advanced  two  or  three  times,  near  enough  to  touch  me 
with  her  hand,  but  seemed  fearful  to  approach  nearer.  But 


124  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  next  moment  she  returned,  dragging  ]\Ir.  Eglinton  after 
her.  He  was  in  deep  trance,  breathing  with  difficulty,  but 
"  Florence  "  held  him  by  tlie  hand  and  brought  him  up  to 
my  side,  when  he  detached  my  hands  from  those  of  the 
sitters  either  side  of  me,  and  making  me  stand  up,  he 
placed  my  daughter  in  my  arms.  As  she  stood  folded  in 
my  embrace,  she  whispered  a  few  words  to  me  relative  to  a 
subject  kfiotan  to  no  one  but  myself,  and  she  placed  my 
hand  upon  her  heart,  that  I  might  feel  she  was  a  living 
woman.  Colonel  Lean  asked  her  to  go  to  him.  She  tried 
and  failed,  but  having  retreated  behind  the  curtain  to 
gather  strength,  she  appeared  the  second  time  with  Mr. 
Eglinton,  and  calling  Colonel  Lean  to  her,  embraced  him. 
Tliis  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  instances  on  record  of  a 
spirit  form  being  seen  distinctly  by  ten  witnesses  with  the 
medium  under  gas.  The  next  materialization  that  appeared 
was  for  Mr.  Stewart.  This  gentleman  was  newly  arrived 
from  Australia,  and  a  stranger  to  Mr.  Eglinton.  As  soon 
as  he  saw  the  female  form,  who  beckoned  him  to  \\\t  por- 
tiere to  speak  to  her,  he  exclaimed,  "  My  God  !  Pauline," 
with  such  genuine  surprise  and  conviction  as  were  unmis- 
takable. The  spirit  then  whispered  to  him,  and  putting 
her  arms  round  his  neck,  affectionately  kissed  him.  He 
turned  after  a  while,  and  addressing  his  wife,  told  her  that 
the  spirit  bore  the  very  form  and  features  of  their  niece 
Pauline,  whom  they  had  lost  the  year  before.  Mr.  Stewart 
expressed  himself  entirely  satisfied  with  the  identity  of  his 
niece,  and  said  she  looked  just  as  she  had  done  before  she 
was  taken  ill.  I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  the  medium 
also  appeared  with  this  figure,  making  the  third  time  of 
showing  himself  in  one  evening  with  the  spirit  form. 

The  next  apparition,  being  the  seventh  that  appeared,  was 
that  of  a  little  child  apparently  about  two  years  old,  who 
supported  itself  in  walking  by  holding  on  to  a  chair.  I 
stooped  down,  and  tried  to  talk  to  this  baby,  but  it  only 
cried  in  a  fretful  manner,  as  though  frightened  at  finding 
itself  with  strangers,  and  turned  away.  The  attention  of 
the  circle  was  diverted  from  this  sight  by  seeing  "Abdullah  " 
dart  between  tlie  curtains,  and  stand  with  the  child  in  our 
view,  whilst  Mr.  Eglinton  appeared  at  the  same  moment 
between  the  two  forms,  making  a  tria  juncta  in  uno. 

Thus  ended  the  seance.  The  second  one  of  which  I 
wrote  took  place  on  the  27th  of  the  same  month,  and  under 


THERE    IS   NO   DEATH.  125 

very  similar  circumstances.  The  circle  this  time  consisted 
of  Mrs.  Wheeler,  Mr.  Woods,  Mr.  Gordon,  The  Honorable 
Gordon  Sandeman,  my  daughter  Eva,  my  son  Frank, 
Colonel  Lean,  and  myself.  Mr.  Eglinton  appeared  on  this 
occasion  to  find  some  difficulty  in  passing  under  control, 
and  he  came  out  so  frequently  into  the  circle  to  gather 
power,  that  I  guessed  we  were  going  to  have  uncommonly 
good  manifestations.  The  voice  of  "  Joey,"  too,  begged  us 
under  no  circuvistances  tvhatever,  to  lose  hands,  as  they 
were  going  to  try  something  very  difficult,  and  we  might 
defeat  their  efforts  at  the  very  moment  of  victory.  When 
the  medium  was  at  last  under  control  in  the  back  drawing 
room,  a  tall  man,  with  an  uncovered  Iiead  of  dark  hair,  and 
a  large  beard,  appeared  and  walked  up  to  a  lady  in  the 
company.  She  was  very  much  affected  by  the  recognition 
of  the  spirit,  which  she  affirmed  to  be  that  of  her  brother. 
She  called  him  by  name  and  kissed  him,  and  informed  us, 
that  he  was  just  as  he  had  been  in  earth  life.  Her  emotion 
was  so  great,  we  thought  she  would  have  fainted,  but  after 
a  while  she  became  calm  again.  We  next  heard  the  notes 
of  a  clarionet.  I  had  been  told  that  Mr.  Woods  (a  stranger 
just  arrived  from  the  Antipodes)  had  lost  a  brother  under 
peculiarly  distressing  circumstances,  and  that  he  hoped 
(though  hardly  expected)  to  see  his  brother  that  evening. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  Mr.  Woods  ;  yet  so 
remarkable  was  the  likeness  between  the  brothers,  that 
when  a  spirit  appeared  with  a  clarionet  in  his  hand,  I  could 
not  help  knowing  who  it  was,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Woods,  there  is  your  brother  !  "  The  figure  walked  up  to 
Mr.  Woods  and  grasped  his  hand.  As  they  appeared  thus 
with  their  faces  turned  to  one  another,  they  were  striki7igly 
alike  both  in  feature  and  expression.  This  spirit's  head  was 
also  bare,  an  unusual  occurrence,  and  covered  with  thick, 
crisp  hair.  He  appeared  twice,  and  said  distinctly,  "  God 
bless  you  1  "  each  time  to  his  brother.  Mrs.  Wheeler,  who 
had  known  the  spirit  in  earth  life,  was  startled  by  the  tone 
of  the  voice,  which  she  recognized  at  once  ;  and  Mr.  Mor- 
gan, who  had  been  an  intimate  friend  of  his  in  Australia, 
confirmed  the  recognition.  We  asked  Mr.  Woods  the 
meaning  of  the  clarionet,  which  was  a  black  one,  hand- 
somely inlaid  with  silver.  He  told  us  his  brother  had  been 
an  excellent  musician,  and  had  won  a  similar  instrument 
as  a  prize  at  some  musical  competition.  "  But,"  he  added 


126  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

wonderingly,  "  his  clarionet  is  locked  up  in  my  house  in 
Australia."  My  daughter  "  Florence  "  came  out  next,  but 
only  a  little  way,  at  which  I  was  disappointed,  but  "Joey" 
said  they  were  reserving  the  strength  for  a  manifestation 
further  on.  He  then  said,  "  Here  comes  a  friend  for  Mr. 
Sandeman,"  and  a  man,  wearing  the  masonic  badge  and 
scarf,  appeared,  and  made  the  tour  of  tlie  circle,  giving  the 
masonic  grip  to  those  of  the  craft  present.  He  was  a  good 
looking  young  man,  and  said  he  had  met  some  of  those 
present  in  Australia,  but  no  one  seemed  to  recognize  him. 
He  was  succeeded  by  a  male  figure,  who  had  materialized 
on  the  previous  occasion.  As  he  passed  through  the  cur- 
tain, a  female  figure  appeared  beside  him^  bearing  a  very 
bright  light,  as  though  to  show  him  the  way.  She  did  not 
come  beyond  i\\e.J>o}'tUre,  but  every  one  in  the  room  saw 
her  distinctly.  On  account  of  the  dress  and  complexion 
of  the  male  figure,  we  had  wrongly  christened  him  "  The 
Bedouin  ;  "  but  my  son,  Frank  Marryat,  who  is  a  sailor,  now 
found  out  he  was  an  East  Indian  by  addressing  him  in 
Hindustani,  to  which  he  responded  in  a  low  voice.  Some 
one  asked  him  to  take  a  seat  amongst  us,  upon  which  he 
seized  a  heavy  chair  in  one  hand  and  flourished  it  above 
his  head.  He  then  squatted,  native  fashion,  on  his 
haunches  on  the  floor  and  left  us,  as  before,  by  vanishing 
suddenly. 

"  Joey  "  now  announced  that  they  were  going  to  try  the 
experiment  of  "  showing  us  how  the  spirits  were  tnade/rom 
the  tneditim."  This  was  the  crowning'triumph  of  the  even- 
ing. Mr.  Eglinton  appeared  in  the  very  midst  of  us  in 
trance.  He  entered  the  room  backwards,  and  as  if 
fighting  with  the  power  that  pushed  him  in,  his  eyes  were 
shut,  and  his  breath  was  drawn  with  difficulty.  As  he 
stood  thus,  holding  on  to  a  chair  for  support,  an  airy  mass 
like  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  was  seen  on  his  left  hip,  his 
legs  became  illuminated  by  lights  travelling  up  and  down 
them,  and  a  white  film  settled  about  his  head  and  shoulders. 
The  mass  increased,  and  he  breathed  harder  and  harder, 
whilst  invisible  hands  pulled  the  filmy  drapery  out  of  his 
hip  in  long  strips,  that  amalgamated  as  soon  as  formed, 
and  fell  to  the  ground  to  be  succeeded  by  others.  The 
cloud  continued  to  grow  thicker,  and  we  were  eagerly 
watching  the  process,  when,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the 
mass  had  evaporated,  and  a  spirit,  full  formed,  stood  beside 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  127 

him.  No  one  could  say  how  it  had  been  raised  .n  tne  very 
midr,t  of  us,  nor  whence  it  came,  but  it  teas  there.  Mr. 
Eglinton  then  retired  with  the  new-born  spirit  behind  the 
curtains,  but  m  another  moment  he  came  (or  he  was  thrown 
out)  amongst  us  again,  and  fell  upon  the  floor.  The  cur- 
tains opened  again,  and  the  full  figure  of  "  Ernest"  ap- 
peared and  raised  the  medium  by  the  hand.  As  he  saw 
him,  Mr.  Eglinton  fell  on  his  knees,  and  "Ernest"  drew 
him  out  of  sight.  Thus  ended  the  second  of  these  two 
wonderful  seances.  The  published  reports  of  them  were 
signed  with  the  full  names  and  addresses  of  those  who 
witnessed  them. 

William  Eglinton's  powers  embrace  various  phases  of 
phenomena,  amongst  which  Icvitation  is  a  common  occur- 
rence ;  indeed,  I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  sat  with  him  at 
a  seance  during  which  he  has  not  been  levitated.  I  have 
seen  him  on  several  occasions  rise,  or  be  carried,  into  the 
air,  so  that  his  head  touched  the  ceiling,  and  his  feet  were 
above  the  sitters'  heads.  On  one  occasion  whilst  sitting 
with  him  a  perfectly  new  manifestation  was  developed.  As 
each  spirit  came  the  name  was  announced,  written  on  the 
air  in  letters  of  fire,  which  moved  round  the  circle  in  front 
of  the  sitters.  As  the  names  were  those  of  friends  of  the 
audience  and  not  of  friends  of  Mr.  Eglinton,  and  the 
phenomenon  ended  with  a  letter  written  to  me  in  the  same 
manner  on  private  affairs,  it  could  not  be  attributed  to  a 
previously  arranged  trick.  I  have  accompanied  Mr.  Eglin- 
ton, in  the  capacity  of  interpreter,  to  a  professional  seance 
in  Paris  consisting  of  some  forty  persons,  not  one  of  whom 
could  speak  a  word  of  English  whilst  he  was  equally  igno- 
rant of  forcigh  languages.  And  I  have  heard  French  and 
German  spirits  return  through  him  to  converse  with  their 
friends,  who  were  radiant  with  joy  at  communicating  with 
them  again,  whilst  their  medium  could  not  (had  he  been 
conscious)  have  understood  or  pronounced  a  single  word 
of  all  the  news  he  was  so  glibly  repeating.  I  will  conclude 
this  testimony  to  his  powers  by  the  account  of  a  sitting 
with  him  for  slate  writing — that  much  abused  and  most 
maligned  manifestation.  Because  a  few  ignorant  pig- 
headed people  who  have  never  properly  investigated  the 
science  of  Spiritualism  decide  that  a  thing  cannot  be, 
"  because  it  can't,"  men  of  honor  and  truth  are  voted  char- 
latans and  tricksters,  and  those  who  believe  in  them  fools 


I2g  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

and  blind.  The  day  will  dawn  yet  when  it  will  be  seen 
wliich  of  the  two  classes  best  deserve  tlie  name. 

Some  years  ago,  when  I  first  became  connected  in  busi- 
ness with  Mr.  Edgar  Lee  of  the  St.  Stephen's  Review,  I 
found  him  much  interested  in  the  subject  of  Spiritualism, 
though  lie  had  never  had  an  opportunity  of  investigating 
it,  and  through  my  introduction  I  procured  him  a  test 
seance  with  William  Eglinton.  We  met  one  afternoon  at 
the  medium's  house  in  Nottingham  Place  for  that  purpose, 
and  sat  at  an  ordinary  table  in  the  back  dining-room  for 
slate-writing.  The  slate  used  on  the  occasion  (as  Mr.  Lee 
had  neglected  to  bring  his  own  slate  as  requested)  was  one 
which  was  presented  to  Mr.  Eglinton  by  Mr.  Gladstone. 
It  consisted  of  two  slates  of  medium  size,  set  in  mahogany 
frames,  with  box  hinges,  and  which,  when  shut,  were 
fastened  with  a  Bramah  lock  and  key.  On  the  table  cloth 
was  a  collection  of  tiny  pieces  of  different  colored  chalk. 
In  the  front  room,  which  was  divided  from  us  by  folding 
doors,  were  some  bookcases.  Mr.  Eglinton  commenced 
by  asking  Mr.  Lee  to  go  into  the  front  room  by  himself, 
and  select,  in  his  mind's  eye,  any  book  he  chose  as  the 
one  from  which  extracts  should  be  given.  Mr.  Lee  having 
done  as  he  was  told,  returned  to  his  former  place  beside 
us,  without  giving  a  hint  as  to  which  book  he  had  selected. 
Mr.  Gladstone's  slate  was  then  delivered  over  to  him  to 
clean  with  sponge  and  water  ;  that  done,  he  was  directed 
to  choose  four  pieces  of  chalk  and  place  them  between  the 
slates,  to  lock  them  and  retain  the  key.  The  slates  were 
left  on  the  table  in  the  sight  of  all;  Mr.  Lee's  hand 
remained  on  them  all  the  time.  All  that  Mr.  Eglinton  did 
was  to  place  his  hand  above  Mr.  Lee's. 

"  You  chose,  I  think,"  he  commenced,  "  four  morsels  of 
chalk — white,  blue,  yellow  and  red.  Please  say  which  word, 
on  which  line,  on  which  page  of  the  book  you  selected  just 
now,  the  white  chalk  shall  transcribe." 

Mr.  Lee  answered  (I  forget  the  exact  numbers)  some- 
what in  this  wise,  "  The  3rd  word  on  the  15th  line  of  the 
102nd  page,"  he  having,  it  must  be  remembered,  no 
knowledge  of  the  contents  of  the  volume,  which  he  had  not 
even  touched  with  his  hand.  Immediately  he  had  spoken, 
a  scratching  noise  was  heard  between  the  two  slates.  When 
it  ceased,  Mr.  Eglinton  put  the  same  question  with  regard 
to  the  blue,  yellow  and  red  chalks,  which  was  similarly 
responded  to.      He   then   asked  Mr.  Lee  to  unlock  the 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  129 

slates,  read  the  words,  and  then  fetch  the  book  he  had 
selected,  and  compare  notes,  and  in  each  instance  the 
word  had  been  given  correctly.  Several  other  experiments 
were  then  made,  equally  curious,  the  number  of  Mr.  Lee's 
watch,  which  he  had  not  taken  from  his  pocket,  and  which 
he  said  he  did  not  know  himself,  being  amongst  them. 
Then  Mr.  Eglinton  said  to  Mr.  Lee,  "  Have  you  any  friend 
in  the  spirit-world  from  whom  you  would  like  to  hear  ?  If 
so,  and  you  will  mentally  recall  the  name,  we  will  try  and 
procure  some  writing  from  him  or  her."  (I  must  say  here 
that  these  two  were  utter  strangers  to  each  other,  and  had 
met  for  the  first  time  that  afternoon,  and  indeed  [as  will  be 
seen  by  the  context]  /had  a  very  slight  knowledge  of  Mr. 
Edgar  Lee  myself  at  that  time.)  ^Ix.  Lee  thought  for  a 
moment,  and  then  replied  that  there  was  a  dead  friend  of 
his  from  whom  he  should  like  to  hear.  The  cleaning  and 
locking  process  was  gone  through  again,  and  the  scratch- 
ing re-commenced,  and  when  it  concluded,  Mr.  Lee  un- 
locked the  slates  and  read  a  letter  to  this  effect  : — 

"My  Dear  Will, — I  am  quite  satisfied  with  your  decision  respect- 
ing Bob.  By  all  means,  send  him  to  the  school  you  are  thinking  of. 
He  will  get  on  better  there.  His  education  requires  more  pushing  than 
it  gets  at  present.  Thanks  for  all  you  have  done  for  him.  God  bless 
you. — ^Ycur  affectionate  cousin,  R.  Tasker." 

I  do  not  pretend  to  give  the  exact  words  of  this  letter  ;  for 
though  they  were  afterwards  published,  I  have  not  a  copy 
by  me.  But  the  gist  of  the  experiment  does  not  lie  in  the 
exactitude  of  the  words.  When  I  saw  the  slate,  I  looked 
at  Mr.  Lee  in  astonishment. 

"Who  is  it  for?"  I  asked. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  replied ;  "  it  is  for  me.  It  is  from 
my  cousin,  wlio  left  his  boy  in  my  charge.  My  real  name 
is  William   Tasker." 

Now,  I  had  never  heard  it  hinted  before  that  Edgar  Lee 
was  only  a  nom  de  plume,  and  the  announcement  came  on 
me  as  a  genuine  surprise.  So  satisfied  was  Mr.  William 
Tasker  Edgar  Lee  with  his  experimental  sea?ice,  that  he 
had  the  slate  photographed  and  reproduced  in  the  St. 
Stephen's  Review,  w,iih  an  account  of  the  whole  proceed- 
ings, which  were  sufficient  to  make  any  one  stop  for  a 
moment  in  the  midst  of  the  world's  harassing  duties  and 
think, 

9 


13©  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  ARTHUR  COLMAN. 

Arthur  Colman  was  so  intimate  a  friend  of  Air.  Eglin- 
ton's,  and  so  much  associated  with  him  in  my  thoughts  in 
the  days  wlien  I  first  knew  them  both,  that  it  seems  only 
natural  that  I  should  write  of  him  next.  His  powers  were 
more  confined  to  materialization  than  Eglinton's,  but  in 
that  he  excelled.  He  is  the  most  wonderful  materializing 
medium  I  ever  met  in  England ;  but  of  late  years,  owing 
to  the  injury  it  did  him  in  his  profession,  he  has  been  com- 
pelled, in  justice  to  himself,  to  give  up  sitting  for  physical 
manifestations,  and,  indeed,  sitting  at  all,  except  to  oblige 
his  friends.  I  cannot  but  consider  this  decision  on  his  part 
as  a  great  public  loss  ;  but  until  the  public  takes  more 
interest  in  the  next  world  than  they  do  in  this,  it  will  not 
make  it  worth  the  while  of  such  as  Mr.  Colman  to  devote 
their  lives,  health  and  strength  to  their  enlightenment.  For 
to  be  a  good  physical  medium  means  literally  to  part,  little 
by  little,  with  one's  own  life,  and  no  man  can  be  expected 
to  do  so  much  for  the  love  of  a  set  of  unbelievers  and 
sceptics,  who  will  use  up  all  his  powers,  and  then  go  home 
to  call  him  a  rogue  and  a  cheat  and  a  trickster.  If,  as  I 
am  persuaded,  each  one  of  us  is  surrounded  by  the  influ- 
ences we  gather  of  our  own  free-will  about  us — the  loving 
and  noble-hearted  by  angels,  the  selfish  and  unbelieving 
by  devils — and  we  consider  how  the  latter  preponderate 
over  the  former  in  this  world,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that 
most  seances  2l\q.  conducted  by  an  assemblage  of  evil  spirits 
brought  there  by  the  sitters  themselves?  Sceptical,  blas- 
phemous and  sensual  men  and  women  collect  together  to 
try  and  find  out  the  falsehood,  not  the  triith,  of  Spiritual- 
ism, and  are  tricked  by  the  very  influences  that  attend 
their  footsteps  and  direct  their  daily  lives ;  and  therein 
lies  the  danger  of  Spiritualism  as  a  pursuit,  taken  up  out 
of  curiosity  rather  than  a  desire  to  learn.  It  gives  in- 
creased power  to  the  evil  that  surrounds  ourselves,  and 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  131 

the  devil  that  goes  out  of  us  returns  with  seven  other 
devils  worse  than  himself,  The  drunkard,  who,  by  giving 
rein  to  a  weakness  which  he  knows  he  should  resist,  has 
attracted  to  him  the  spirits  of  drunkards  gone  before,  joins 
a  seance,  and  by  the  collaboration  of  forces,  as  it  were, 
bestows  increased  power  on  the  guides  he  has  chosen  for 
himself  to  lead  him  into  greater  evil.  This  dissertation, 
however,  called  forth  by  the  never-ceasing  wonder  I  feel  at 
the  indifference  of  the  world  towards  such  sights  as  I  have 
seen,  has  led  me  further  than  I  intended  from  the  subject 
of  my  chapter. 

Arthur  Colman  is  a  young  man  of  delicate  constitution 
and  appearance,  who  was  at  one  time  almost  brought  down 
to  death's  door  by  the  demands  made  by  physical  pheno- 
mena upon  his  strength  ;  but  since  he  has  given  up  sitting, 
he  has  regained  his  health,  and  looks  quite  a  different 
person.  This  fact  proves  of  itself  what  a  tax  is  laid  upon 
the  unfortunate  medium  for  such  manifestations.  Since  he 
has  resolved,  however,  neval^^sit  again,  I  am  all  the  more 
anxious  to  record  what  I  have  seen  through  him,  probably 
for  the  last  time.  When  I  first  knew  my  husband  Colonel 
Lean,  he  had  seen  nothing  of  Spiritualism,  and  was  pro- 
portionately curious,  and  naturally  a  little  sceptical  on  the 
subject,  or,  rather  let  me  say,  incredulous.  He  was  hardly 
prepared  to  receive  all  the  marvels  I  told  him  of  without 
proof;  ^id  Mr.  Colman's  guide,  "  Aimee,"  was  very 
anxious  to  convince  him  of  their  truth.  She  arranged, 
tiierefore,  a  seance  at  which  he  was  to  be  present,  and  which 
was  to  be  held  at  the  house  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George 
Neville.  The  party  dined  there  together  previously,  and 
consisted  only  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Neville,  Arthur  Colman, 
Colonel  Lean,  and  myself.  As  we  were  in  the  drawing- 
room,  however,  after  dinner,  and  before  we  had  commenced 
the  seance,  an  American  lady,  who  was  but  slightly  known 
to  any  of  us,  was  announced.  We  had  particularly  wished 
to  have  no  strangers  present,  and  her  advent  proportion- 
ately annoyed  us,  but  we  did  not  know  on  what  excuse  to 
get  rid  of  her.  She  was  a  pushing  sort  of  person  ;  and 
when  Mrs.  Neville  told  her  we  were  going  to  hold  a  seance, 
as  a  sort  of  hint  that  she  miglit  take  her  leave,  it  only 
made  her  resolve  to. stay;  indeed,  she  declared  she  had 
had  a  premonition  of  the  fact.  She  said  that  whilst  in  her 
own  room  that  morning,  a  figure  had  appeared  standing 


132  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

by  her  bed,  dressed  in  blue  and  white,  Uke  the  pictures  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  and  that  all  day  she  had  had  an  impres- 
sion that  she  must  spend  the  evening  with  the  Nevilles, 
and  she  should  hear  something  more  about  it.  We  could 
not  get  rid  of  the  lady,  so  we  were  obliged  to  ask  her  to 
remain  and  assist  at  the  seafice,  which  she  had  already  made 
up  her  mind  to  do,  so  we  commenced  our  preparations. 
The  two  drawing-rooms  communicated  by  folding  doors, 
which  were  opened,  and  vl  portiere  drawn  across  the  open- 
ing. In  the  back  room  we  placed  Mr.  Colman's  chair.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  light  grey  suit,  which  we  secured  in  the 
following  manner  : — His  hands  were  first  sewn  inside  the 
sleeves  of  the  coat,  then  his  arms  were  placed  behind  his 
back,  and  the  coat  sleeves  sewn  together  to  the  elbow. 
We  then  sewed  his  trouser  legs  together  in  the  same  way. 
We  then  tied  him  round  the  throat,  waist  and  legs  with 
white  cotton,  which  the  least  movement  on  his  part  would 
break,  and  the  ends  of  each  ligament  were  sealed  to  the 
wall  of  the  room  with  wa^ajjld  stamped  with  my  seal  with 
"  JFlorence  Marry  at  "  on  it.  Considering  him  thus  secure, 
without  ^x\y  possibility  of  escape  unless  we  discovered  it, 
we  left  him  in  the  back  room,  and  arranged  ourselves  on  a 
row  of  five  chairs  before  the  portiere  in  the  front  one, 
which  was  lighted  by  a  single  gas-burner.  I  sat  at  the 
head  of  the  row,  then  the  American  lady,  Mrs.  Neville, 
Colonel  Lean  and  Mr.  Neville.  I  am  not  sure  ^ how  long 
we  waited  for  the  manifestations ;  but  I  do  not  think  it 
was  many  minutes  before  a  female  figure  glided  from  the 
side  of  the  curtain  and  took  a  vacant  chair  by  my  side. 
I  said,  "  Who  is  this  .? "  and  she  whispered,  "  Florence,' 
and  laid  her  head  down  on  my  shoulder,  and  kissed  my 
neck.  I  was  turning  towards  her  to  distinguish  her  fea- 
tures more  fully,  when  I  became  aware  that  a  second  figure 
was  standing  in  front  of  me,  and  "  Florence  "  said  "  Mother, 
there  is  Powles ; "  and  at  the  same  time,  as  he  bent  down 
to  speak  to  me,  his  beard  touched  my  face.  I  had  not 
had  time  to  draw  the  attention  of  my  friends  to  the  spirits 
that  stood  by  me,  when  I  was  startled  by  hearing  one 
exclamation  after  another  from  the  various  sitters.  The 
American  lady  called  out,  "  There's  the  woman  that  came 
to  me  this  morning."  Mr.  Neville  said,  "  That  is  my 
father,"  and  Colonel  Lean  was  asking  some  one  if  he  would 
not  give  his  name,     I  looked  down  the  line  of  sitters.    Be- 


THERE   IS  NO  DEATH.  133 

fore  Colonel  Lean  there  stood  an  old  man  with  a  long, 
white  beard  ;  a  somewhat  similar  figure  was  in  front  of 
Mr.  Neville.  Before  the  dark  curtain  appeared  a  woman 
dressed  in  blue  and  white,  like  a  nun  ;  and  meanwhile, 
"  Florence  "  and  "  Powles  "  still  maintained  their  station 
by  my  side.  As  if  this  were  not  enough  of  itself  to  turn  a 
mortal's  brain,  ih^ portiere  was  at  the  same  moment  drawn 
aside,  and  there  stood  Arthur  Colman  in  his  grey  suit, 
freed  from  all  his  bonds,  but  under  the  control  of  "  Aimee," 
who  called  out  joyously  to  my  husband;  "  Now,  Frank, 
wiil you  believe  ?"  She  dropped  the  curtain,  the  appari- 
tions glided  or  faded  away,  and  we  passed  into  the  back 
drawing-room,  to  find  Mr.  Colman  still  in  trance,  just  as 
we  had  left  him,  and  with  ail  the  seals  and  stitches  intact. 
Not  a  thread  of  them  all  was  broken.  This  is  the  largest 
number  of  spirits  I  have  ever  seen  at  one  time  with  one 
medium.  I  have  seen  two  materialized  spirits  at  a  time, 
and  even  three,  from  Mr.  Williams  and  Miss  Siiowers  and 
Katie  Cook  ;  but  on  this  occasion  there  were  five  apparent 
with  the  medium,  all  standing  together  before  us.  And 
this  is  the  sort  of  thing  that  the  majority  of  people  do  not 
consider  it  worth  their  while  to  take  a  little  trouble  to  see. 
I  have  already  related  how  successfully  "  Florence"  used 
to  materialize  through  this  medium,  and  numerous  friends, 
utterly  unknown  to  him,  have  revisited  us  through  his 
means.  His  trance  mediumship  is  as  wonderful  as  his 
physical  phenomena ;  some  people  might  think  more  so. 
Amongst  others,  two  spirits  have  come  back  to  us  through 
Mr.  Colman,  neither  of  whom  he  knew  in  this  life,  and  both 
of  whom  are,  in  their  way,  too  characteristic  to  be  mistaken. 
One  is  Phillis  Glover  the  actress  ;  the  other  my  stepson, 
Francis  Lean,  who  was  drowned  by  an  accident  at  sea. 
Phillis  Glover  was  a  woman  who  led  a  very  eventful  life, 
chiefly  in  America,  and  was  a  versatile  genius  in  conversa- 
tion, as  in  everything  else.  She  was  peculiar  also,  and  had 
a  half- Yankee  way  of  talking,  and  a  store  of  familiar  say- 
ings and  anecdotes,  which  she  constantly  introduced  into 
her  conversation.  She  was  by  no  means  an  ordinary  per- 
son whilst  in  this  life,  and  in  order  to  imitate  her  manner 
and  speech  succssefully,  one  would  need  to  be  as  clever 
a  person  as  herself  And,  without  wishing  to  derogate 
from  the  powers  of  Mr.  Colman's  mind,  he  knows,  and  I 
know,  that  Phillis  Glover  was  cleverer  than  either  of  us, 


134  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

When  her  influence  or  spirit  therefore  returns  through  him, 
it  is  quite  unmistakable.  It  is  not  only  that  she  retains 
all  her  little  tricks  of  voice  and  feature  and  manner  (which 
]\Ir.  Colman  has  never  seen),  but  she  alludes  to  circum- 
stances that  took  place  in  this  life  and  people  she  was 
associated  with  here  that  he  has  never  heard  of.  ISlorc, 
she  will  relate  her  old  stories  and  anecdotes,  and  sing  her 
old  songs,  and  give  the  most  incontrovertible  tests  of  her 
identity,  even  to  recalling  facts  and  incidents  that  have 
entirely  passed  from  our  minds.  When  she  appears  through 
him,  it  is  Phillis  Glover  we  are  sitting  with  again  and  talk- 
ing with,  as  familiarly  as  we  did  in  the  days  gone  by. 
"  Francis,"  in  his  way  too,  is  quite  as  remarkable.  The 
circumstances  of  his  death  and  the  events  leading  to  it 
were  unknown  to  us,  till  he  related  them  through  Mr. 
Colman ;  and  he  speaks  to  us  of  the  contents  of  private 
letters,  and  repeats  conversations  and  alludes  to  circum- 
stances and  names  that  are  known  only  to  him  and  our- 
selves. He  had  a  peculiar  manner  also — quick  and  nervous 
— and  a  way  of  cutting  his  words  short,  which  his  spirit 
preserves  to  the  smallest  particular,  and  which  furnish  the 
strongest  proofs  possible  of  his  identity  to  those  who  knew 
him  here  below.  But  these  are  but  a  very  few  amongst 
the  innumerable  tests  furnished  by  Arthur  Colman's 
occult  powers  of  the  assured  possibility  of  communicating 
with  the  spirits  of  those  gone  before  us. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  13$ 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  MRS.  GUPPY  VOLCKMAN. 

The  mediumship  of  this  lady  is  so  well  known,  and  has 
been  so  universally  attested,  that  nothing  I  can  write  of 
could  possibly  add  to  her  fame ;  and  as  I  made  her  ac- 
quaintance but  a  short  time  before  she  relinquished  silting 
for  manifestations,  I  have  had  but  little  experience  of  her 
powers,  but  such  as  I  enjoyed  were  very  remarkable.  I 
have  alluded  to  them  in  the  story  of  "  The  Green  Lady," 
wliose  apparition  was  due  solely  to  Mrs.  Guppy  Volck- 
man's  presence,  and  on  that  occasion  she  gave  us  another 
wonderful  proof  of  her  mediumship.  A  sheet  was  pro- 
cured and  held  up  at  either  end  by  jMr.  Ciiarles  Williams 
and  herself.  It  was  held  in  the  light,  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  forming  a  white  wall  of  about  five  feet  high,  i.e.,  as 
high  as  their  arms  could  conveniently  reach.  Both  the 
hands  of  Mrs.  Volckman  and  Mr.  Williams  were  placed 
outside  the  sheet,  so  that  no  trickery  might  be  suspected 
through  their  being  concealed.  In  a  short  time  the  head 
of  a  woman  appeared  above  the  sheet,  followed  by  that  of 
a  man,  and  various  pairs  of  hands,  both  large  and  small, 
which  bobbed  up  and  down,  and  seized  the  hands  of  the 
spectators,  whilst  the  faces  went  close  to  the  media,  as  if 
with  the  intention  of  kissing  them.  This  frightened  Mrs. 
Volckman,  so  that  she  frequently  screamed  and  dropped 
her  end  of  the  sheet,  which,  had  there  been  any  deception, 
must  inevitably  have  e^j^osed  it.  It  seemed  to  make  no 
difference  to  the  spirits,  however,  who  reappeared  directly 
they  had  the  opportunity,  and  made  her  at  last  so  nervous 
that  she  threw  the  sheet  down  and  refused  to  hold  it  any 
more.  The  faces  were  life-size,  and  could  move  their  eyes 
and  lips  ;  the  hands  were  some  as  large  as  a  man's,  and 
covered  with  hair,  and  others  like  those  of  a  woman  or 
child.  They  had  all  the  capability  of  working  the  fingers 
and  grasping  objects  presented  to  them ;  whilst  the  four 
hands  belonging  to  the  media  were  kept  in  sight  of  the 


136  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

audience,  and  could  not  have  worked  machinery  even  if 
they  could  have  concealed  it. 

The  first  time  I  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Volckman 
(then  IMrs.  Guppy)  was  at  a  seatice  at  her  own  house 
in  Victoria  Road,  where  she  had  assembled  a  large 
party  of  guests,  including  several  names  well  known 
in  art  and  literature.  We  sat  in  a  well-lighted  drawing- 
room,  and  the  party  was  so  large  that  the  circle  round 
the  table  was  three  deep.  Mrs.  Mary  Hardy,  the 
American  medium  (since  dead),  was  present,  and  the 
honors  of  the  manifestations  may  be  therefore,  I  conclude, 
divided  between  the  two  ladies.  The  table,  a  common 
deal  one,  made  for  such  occasions,  with  a  round  hole  of 
about  twenty  inches  in  diameter  in  the  middle  of  it,  was 
covered  with  a  cloth  that  hung  down,  and  was  nailed  to 
the  ground,  leaving  only  the  aperture  free.  (I  must  pre- 
mise that  this  cloth  had  been  nailed  down  by  a  committee 
of  the  gentlemen  visitors,  in  order  that  there  might  be  no 
suspicion  of  a  confederate  hidden  underneath  it.)  We 
then  sat  round  the  table,  but  without  placing  our  hands  on 
it.  In  a  short  time  hands  began  to  appear  through  the 
open  space  in  the  table,  all  sorts  of  hands,  from  the 
woman's  taper  fingers  and  the  baby's  dimpled  fist,  to  the 
hands  of  old  and  young  men,  wrinkled  or  muscular.  Some 
of  the  hands  had  rings  on  the  fingers,  by  which  the  sitters 
recognized  them,  some  stretched  themselves  out  to  be 
grasped  ;  and  some  appeared  in  pairs,  clasped  together  or 
separate.  One  hand  took  a  glove  from  a  sitter  and  put  it 
on  the  other,  showing  the  muscular  force  it  possessed  by 
the  way  in  which  it  pressed  down  each  finger  and  then 
buttoned  the  glove.  Another  pair  of  hands  talked  through 
the  dumb  alphabet  to  us,  and  a  third  played  on  a  musical 
instrument.  I  was  leaning  forward,  before  I  had  witnessed 
the  above,  peering  inquisitively  dqpn  the  hole,  and  saying, 
"  1  wonder  if  they  would  have  strength  to  take  anything 
down  witli  them,"  when  a  large  hand  suddenly  appeared 
and  very  nearly  took  me  down,  by  seizing  my  nose  as  if  it 
never  meant  to  let  go  again.  At  all  events,  it  took  me  a  peg 
or  two  down,  for  I  remember  it  brought  the  tears  into  my 
eyes  with  the  force  it  exhibited.  After  the  hands  had 
ceased  to  appear,  the  table  was  moved  away,  and  we  sat 
in  a  circle  in  the  light.  Mrs.  Guppy  did  not  wish  to  take 
a  part  in  the  seance,  except  as  a  spectator,  so  she  retired 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  137 

to  the  back  drawing-room  with  the  Baroness  Adelma  Vay 
and  other  visitors,  and  left  Mrs.  Hardy  with  the  circle  in 
the  front.  Suddenly,  however,  she  was  levitated  and  car- 
ried in  the  sight  of  us  all  into  the  midst  of  our  circle.  As 
she  felt  herself  rising  in  the  air,  she  called  out,  "  Don't 
let  go  hands  for  Heaven's  sake."  We  were  standing  in  a 
ring,  and  I  had  hold  of  the  hand  of  Prince  Albert  of  Solms. 
As  Mrs.  Gupyy  came  sailing  over  our  heads,  her  feet  caught 
his  neck  and  mine,  and  in  our  anxiety  to  do  as  she  had  told 
us,  we  gripped  tight  hold  of  each  other,  and  were  thrown 
forward  on  our  knees  by  the  force  with  which  she  was  car- 
ried past  us  into  the  centre.  This  was  a  pretty  strong 
proof  to  us,  whatever  it  may  be  to  others,  that  our  senses 
did  not  deceive  us  when  we  thought  we  saw  Mrs.  Guppy 
over  our  heads  in  the  air.  The  influence  that  levitated  her, 
moreover,  placed  her  on  a  chair  with  such  a  bump  that  it 
broke  the  two  front  legs  off.  As  soon  as  Mrs.  Guppy  had 
rejoined  us,  the  order  was  given  to  put  out  the  light  and  to 
wish  for  something.  We  unanimously  asked  for  flowers,  it 
being  the  middle  of  December,  and  a  hard  frost.  Simul- 
taneously we  smelt  the  smell  of  fresh  earth,  and  were  told 
to  light  the  gas  again,  when  the  following  extraordinary 
sight  met  our  view.  In  the  middle  of  the  sitters,  still  hold- 
ing hands,  was  piled  up  oti  the  carpet  an  immense  quantity 
of  mould,  which  had  been  torn  up  apparently  with  the 
roots  that  accompanied  it.  There  were  laurestinus,  and 
laurels,  and  holly,  and  several  others,  just  as  they  had  been 
pulled  oif£  of  the  earth  and  thrown  down  in  the  midst  of  us. 
!Mrs.  Guppy  looked  anything  but  pleased  at  the  state  of 
her  carpel,  and  begged  the  spirits  would  bring  something 
cleaner  next  time.  They  then  told  us  to  extinguish  the 
lights  again,  and  each  sitter  was  to  wish  mentally  for  some- 
thing for  himself.  I  wished  for  a  yellow  butterfly,  know- 
ing it  was  December  f* and  as  I  thought  of  it,  a  little  card- 
board box  was  put  into  my  hand.  Prince  Albert  whispered 
to  me,  ■'  Have  you  got  anything  ?  "  "  Yes/'  I  said ;  "  but 
not  what  I  asked  for.  I  expeot  they  have  given  me  a 
piece  of  jewellery."  When  the  gas  was  re-lit,  I  opened  the 
\)0-s.^  zxid.  \\\Qx&\z.y  two  yellow  butterflies ;  dead,  of  course, 
but  none  the  less  extraordinary  for  that,  I  wore  at  that 
siance  a  tight-fitting,  high  white  muslin  dress,  over  a  tight 
petticoat  body.  The  dress  had  no  pocket,  and  I  carried 
my  handkerchief,  a  fine  cambric  one,  in  my  hand.     When 


138  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  siance  was  over,  I  found  this  handkerchief  had  dis- 
appeared, at  which  I  was  vexed,  as  it  had  been  embroid- 
ered for  me  by  my  sister  Emily,  then  dead.  I  inquired  of 
every  sitter  it  they  had  seen  it,  even  making  them  turn  out 
their  pockets  in  case  they  had  taken  it  in  mistake  for  their 
own,  but  it  was  not  to  be  found,  and  I  returned  home,  as  I 
thought,  without  it.  What  was  my  surprise  on  removing  my 
dress  and  petticoat  bodice  to  find  the  handkerchief,  neatly 
folded  into  a  square  of  about  four  inches,  between  my  stays 
and  the  garment  beneath  them  ;  placed,  moreover,  over  the 
smallest  part  of  my  waist,  where  no  fingers  could  have 
penetrated  even  had  my  dress  been  loose.  My  woman 
readers  may  be  able  better  than  the  men  to  appreciate  the 
difficulty  of  such  a  manoeuvre  by  mortal  means  ;  indeed  it 
would  have  been  quite  impossible  for  myself  or  anybody 
else  to  place  the  handkerchief  in  such  a  position  without 
removing  the  stays.  And  it  was  folded  so  neatly  also,  and 
placed  so  smoothly,  that  there  was  not  a  crumple  in  the 
cambric. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  139 


CHAPTER  XVr. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  FLORENCE  COOK. 

In  writing  of  my  own  mediumship,  or  the  mediumship  of 
any  other  person,  I  wish  it  particularly  to  be  understood 
that  I  do  not  intend  my  narrative  to  -be,  by  any  means^  an 
account  oi  all  seances\\€[^  under  that  control  (for  were  I 
to  include  everything  that  I  have  seen  and  heard  during  my 
researches  into  Spiritualism,  this  volume  would  swell  to 
unconscionable  dimensions),  but  only  of  certain  events 
which  I  believe  to  be  remarkable,  and  not  enjoyed  by 
every  one  in  like  measure.  Most  people  have  read  of  the 
ordinary  phenomena  that  take  place  at  such  meetings.  My 
readers,  therefore,  will  find  no  description  here  of  marvels 
which — whether  true  or  false — can  be  accounted  for  upon 
natural  grounds.  Miss  Florence  Cook,  now  Mrs.  Elgie 
Corner,  is  one  of  the  media  who  have  been  most  talked  of 
and  written  about.  W.x.  Alfred  Crookes  took  an  immense 
interest  in  her,  and  published  a  long  account  of  his  investi- 
gation of  Spiritualism  under  her  mediumship.  Mr.  Henry 
Dunphy,  of  the  Morning  Post,  wrote  a  series  of  papers  for 
London  Society  (of  which  magazine  I  was  then  the  editor), 
describing  her  powers,  and  the  proof  she  gave  of  them. 
The  first  time  I  ever  met  Florence  Cook  was  in  his  private 
house,  when  my  little  daughter  appeared  through  her  [vide 
"  The  Story  of  my  Spirit  Child").  On  that  occasion,  as 
we  were  sitting  at  supper  after  the  seance — a  party  of  per- 
haps thirty  people — the  whole  dinner-table,  with  every- 
thing upon  it,  rose  bodily  in  the  air  to  a  level  with  our 
knees,  and  the  dishes  and  glasses  swayed  about  in  a  peril- 
ous manner,  without,  however,  coming  to  any  permanent 
harm.  I  was  so  much  astonished  at,  and  interested  by, 
what  I  aaw  that  evening,  that  I  became  most  anxious  to 
make  the  personal  acquaintance  of  Miss  Cook.  She  was 
the  medium  for  the  celebrated  spirit,  "  Katie  King,"  of 
whom  so  much  has  been  believed  and  disbelieved,  and  the 
siances  she  gave  at  her  parents'  house  in  Hackney  for  the 


140  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

purpose  of  seeing  this  figure  alone  used  to  be  crowded  by 
the  cleverest  and  most  scientific  men  of  the  day,  Sergeants 
Cox  and  Ballantyne,  Mr.  S.  C.  Hall,  Mr.  Alfred  Crookes, 
and  many  others,  being  on  terms  of  the  greatest  intimacy 
with  her.  Mr.  William  Harrison,  of  the  ^/^/r/V/^aZ/j/paper, 
was  the  one  to  procure  me  an  introduction  to  the  family 
and  an  entrance  to  the  seances,  for  which  I  shall  always  feel 
grateful  to  him. 

For  the  benefit  of  the  uninitiated,  let  me  begin  by 
telling  zuho  "  Katie  King "  was  supposed  to  be.  Her 
account  of  herself  was  that  her  name  was  "  Annie 
Owens  ]\Iorgan;"  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  Henry 
Morgan,  a  famous  buccaneer  who  lived  about  the  time  of 
the  Commonwealth,  and  suffered  death  upon  the  high  seas, 
being,  in  fact,  a  pirate  ;  that  she  herself  was  about  twelve 
years  old  when  Charles  the  First  was  beheaded  ;  that  she 
married  and  had  two  little  children  \  that  she  committed 
more  crimes  than  we  should  like  to  hear  of,  having  mur- 
dered men  with  her  own  hands,  but  yet  died  quite  young,  at 
about  two  or  three  and  twenty.  To  all  questions  concern- 
ing the  reason  of  her  reappearance  on  earth,  she  returned 
but  one  answer,  That  it  was  part  of  the  work  given  her  to 
do  to  convince  the  world  of  the  truth  of  Spiritualism.  This 
was  the  information  I  received  from  her  own  lips.  She  had 
appeared  to  the  Cooks  some  years  before  I  saw  her,  and 
had  become  so  much  one  of  the  family  as  to  walk  about 
the  house  at  all  times  without  alarming  the  inmates.  She 
often  materialized  and  got  into  bed  with  her  medium  at 
night,  much  to  Florrie's  annoyance  ;  and  after  Miss  Cook's 
marriage  to  Captain  Corner,  he  told  me  himself  that  he 
used  to  feel  at  first  as  if  he  had  married  two  women,  and 
was  not  quite  sure  which  was  his  wife  of  the  two. 

The  order  of  these  seances  was  always  the  same.  Miss 
Cook  retired  to  a  back  room,  divided  from  the  audience  by 
a  thin  damask  curtain,  and  presently  the  form  of  "  Katie 
King "  would  appear  dressed  in  white,  and  walk  out 
amongst  the  sitters  in  gaslight,  and  talk  like  one  of  them- 
selves. Florence  Cook  (as  I  mentioned  before)  is  a  very 
small,  slight  brunette,  with  dark  eyes  and  dark  curly  hair 
and  a  delicate  aquiline  nose.  Sometimes  "  Katie  "  re- 
sembled her  exactly  ;  at  others,  she  was  totally  different. 
Sometimes,  too,  she  measured  the  same  height  as  her  me- 
dium ;  at  others,  she  was  much  taller.  I  have  a  large  photo- 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  141 

graph  of"  Katie  "  taken  under  limelight.  In  it  she  appears 
as  the  double  of  Florrie  Cook,  yet  Florrie  was  looking  on 
whilst  the  picture  was  taken,  I  have  sat  for  her  several  times 
with  Mr.  Crookes,  and  seen  the  tests  applied  which  are  men- 
tioned in  his  book  on  the  subject.  I  have  seen  Florrie's 
dark  curls  ?iailed  down  to  the  floor,  outside  the  curtain,  in 
view  of  the  audience,  whilst  "  Katie  "  walked  about  and 
talked  with  us.  I  have  seen  Florrie  placed  on  the  scale  of 
a  weighing  machine  constructed  by  Mr.  Crookes  for  the 
purpose,  behind  the  curtain,  whilst  the  balance  remained 
in  sight.  I  have  seen  under  these  circumstances  that  the 
medium  weighed  eight  stone  in  a  normal  condition,  and 
Ihat  as  soon  as  the  materialized  form  was  fully  developed, 
the  balance  ran  up  to  four  stone.  Moreover,  I  have  seen 
both  Florrie  and  "  Katie  "  together  on  several  occasions,  so 
I  can  have  no  doubt  on  the  subject  that  they  were  two 
separate  creatures.  Still,  I  can  quite  understand  how  dif- 
ficult it  must  have  been  for  strangers  to  compare  the  strong 
likeness  that  existed  between  the  medium  and  the  spirit, 
without  suspecting  they  were  one  and  the  same  person. 
One  evening  "  Katie "  walked  out  and  perclied  herself 
upon  my  knee.  I  could  feel  she  was  a  much  plumper  and 
heavier  woman  than  Miss  Cook,  but  she  wonderfully 
resembled  her  in  features,  and  I  told  her  so.  "  Katie  "  did 
not  seem  to  consider  it  a  compliment.  She  shrugged  her 
shoulders,  made  a  grimace,  and  said,  "  I  know  I  am ;  I 
can't  help  it,  but  I  was  much  prettier  than  that  in  earth 
life.  You  shall  see,  some  day — you  shall  see."  After  she 
had  finally  retired  that  evening,  she  put  her  head  out  at 
the  curtain  again  and  said,  with  the^trong  lisp  she  always 
had,  "  I  want  Mrs.  Ross-Church."  I  rose  and  went  to  her, 
when  she  pulled  me  inside  the  curtain,  when  I  found  it  was 
so  thin  that  the  gas  shining  through  it  from  the  outer  room 
made  everything  in  the  inner  quite  visible.  "  Katie  "  pulled 
my  dress  impatiently  and  said,  "  Sit  down  on  the  ground," 
which  I  did.  She  then  seated  herself  in  my  lap,  saying, 
•'  And  now,  dear,  we'll  have  a  good  '  confab,'  like  women  do 
on  earth."  Florence  Cook,  meanwhile,  was  lying  on  a 
mattress  on  the  ground  close  to  us,  wrapped  in  a  deep 
trance.  "  Katie  "  seemed  very  anxious  I  should  ascertain 
beyond  doubt  that  it  was  Florrie.  "  Touch  her,"  she  said, 
"take  her  hand,  pull  her  curls.  Do  you  see  that  it  is 
Florrie  lying  there  ? "     When    I  assured  her  I  was  quite 


142  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

satisfied  there  was  no  doubt  of  it,  the  spirit  said,  "  Then 
look  round  this  way,  and  see  what  I  was  like  inearth  life." 
I  turned  to  the  form  in  my  arms,  and  what  was  my  amaze- 
ment to  see  a  woman  fair  as  the  day,  with  large  grey  or 
blue  eyes,  a  white  skin,  and  a  profusion  of  golden  red  hair. 
"  Katie  "  enjoyed  my  surprise,  and  asked  me,  "  Ain't  I 
prettier  than  Florrie  now  ?  "  She  then  rose  and  procured  a 
pair  of  scissors  from  the  table,  and  cut  off  a  lock  of  her  own 
hair  and  a  lock  of  the  medium's,  and  gave  them  to  me.  I 
have  them  safe  to  this  day.  One  is  almost  black,  soft  and 
silky ;  the  other  a  coarse  golden  red.  After  she  had  made 
me  this  present,  "  Katie  "  said,  "  Go  back  now,  but  don't 
tell  the  others  to-night,  or  they'll  all  want  to  see  me."  On 
another  very  warm  evening  she  sat  on  my  lap  amongst  the 
audience,  and  I  felt  perspiration  on  her  arm.  This  sur- 
prised me ;  and  I  asked  her  if,  for  the  time  being,  she  had 
the  veins,  nerves,  and  secretions  of  a  human  being  ;  if 
blood  ran  through  her  body,  and  she  had  a  heart  and  lungs. 
Her  answer  was,  "  I  have  everything  that  Florrie  has." 
On  that  occasion  also  she  called  me  after  her  into  the  back 
room,  and,  dropping  her  white  garment,  stood  perfectly 
naked  before  me.  "  Now,"  she  said  "  you  can  see  that  I 
am  a  woman."  Which  indeed  she  was,  and  a  most  beauti- 
fully-made woman  too  ;  and  I  examined  her  well,  whilst 
Miss  Cook  lay  beside  us  on  the  floor.  Instead  of  dismissing 
me  this  time,  "  Katie  "  told  me  to  sit  down  by  the  medium, 
and,  having  brought  me  a  candle  and  matches,  said  I  was 
to  strike  a  light  as  soon  as  she  gave  three  knocks,  as  Flor- 
rie would  be  hysterical  on  awaking,  and  need  my  assistance. 
She  then  knelt  dowi^  and  kissed  me,  and  I  saw  she  was 
still  naked.  "  Where  is  your  dress,  Katie  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Oh 
that's  gone,"  she  said  ;  "  I've  sent  it  on  before  me."  As 
she  spoke  thus,  kneeling  beside  me,  she  rapped  three  times 
on  the  floor.  I  struck  the  match  almost  simultaneously 
with  the  signal ;  but  as  it  flared  up,  "  Katie  King  "  was 
gone  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  Miss  Cook,  as  she  had 
predicted,  awoke  with  a  burst  of  frightened  tears,  and  had 
to  be  soothed  into  tranquillity  again.  On  another  occasion 
"  Katie  King  "  was  asked  at  the  beginning  of  the  seance, 
by  one  of  the  company,  to  say  why  she  could  not  appear 
in  the  light  of  more  than  one  gasburner.  The  question 
seemed  to  irritate  her,  and  she  replied,  "  I  have  told  you 
all,  several  times  before,  that  I  can't  stay  under  a  searching 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  143 

light.  I  don't  know  why ;  but  I  can't,  and  if  you  want  to 
prove  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  turn  up  all  the  gas  and  see 
what  will  happen  to  me.  Only  remember,  it  you  do  there 
will  be  no  seance  to-night,  because  I  shan't  be  able  to 
come  back  again,  and  you  must  take  your  choice. 

Upon  this  assertion  it  was  put  to  the  vote  if  the  trial 
should  be  made  or  not,  and  all  present  (Mr.  S.  C.  Hall 
was  one  of  the  party)  decided  we  would  prefer  to  witness 
the  effect  of  a  full  glare  of  gas  upon  the  materialized  form 
than  to  have  the  usual  sitting,  as  it  would  settle  the  vexed 
question  of  the  necessity  of  gloom  (if  not  darkness)  for  a 
materializing  seance  for  ever.  We  accordingly  told  "  Katie" 
of  our  choice,  and  she  consented  to  stand  the  test,  though 
she  said  afterwards  we  had  put  her  to  much  pain.  She 
took  up  her  station  against  the  drawing-room  wall,  with 
her  arms  extended  as  if  she  were  crucified.  Then  three 
gas-burners  were  turned  on  to  their  full  extent  in  a  room 
about  sixteen  feet  square.  The  effect  upon  "  Katie  King  " 
was  marvellous.  She  looked  like  herself  for  the  space  of  a 
second  only,  then  she  began  gradually  to  melt  away.  I  can 
compare  the  dematerialization  of  her  form  to  nothing  but 
a  wax  doll  melting  before  a  hot  fire.  First,  the  features 
became  blurred  and  indistinct ;  they  seemed  to  run  into 
each  other.  The  eyes  sunk  in  the  sockets,  the  nose 
disappeared,  the  frontal  bone  fell  in.  Next  tlie  limbs 
appeared  to  give  way  under  her,  and  she  sank  lower  and 
lower  on  the  carpet  like  a  crumbling  edifice.  At  last  there 
was  nothing  but  her  head  left  above  the  ground — then  a 
heap  of  white  drapery  only,  which  disappeared  with  a 
whisk,  as  if  a  hand  had  pulled  it  after  her — and  we  were 
left  staring  by  the  light  of  three  gas-burners  at  the  spot  on 
which  "  Katie  King"  had  stood. 

She  was  always  attired  in  white  drapery,  but  it  varied  in 
quality.  Sometimes  it  looked  like  long  cloth  ;  at  others  like 
mull  muslin  or  jaconet ;  oftenest  it  was  a  species  of  thick 
cotton  net.  The  sitters  were  much  given  to  asking  "  Katie  " 
for  a  piece  of  her  dress  to  keep  as  a  souvenir  of  their  visit ; 
and  wjien  they  received  it,  would  seal  it  up  carefully  in  an 
envelope  and  convey  it  home ;  and  were  much  surprised 
on  examining  their  treasure  to  find  it  had  totally  disap- 
peared. 

"  Katie  "  used  to  say  that  nothing  material  about  her 
could  be  made  to  last  without  taking  away  some  of  the 


144  THERE  IS  uVO   DEATH. 

medium's  vitality,  and  weakening  her  in  consequence.  One 
evening,  when  she  was  cutting  off  pieces  of  her  dress 
rather  lavishly,  I  remarked  that  it  would  require  a  great 
deal  of  mending.  She  answered,  "  I'll  show  you  how  we 
mend  dresses  in  the  Spirit  World."  She  then  doubled  up 
the  front  breadth  of  her  garment  a  dozen  times,  and  cut 
two  or  three  round  holes  in  it.  I  am  sure  when  she  let  it 
fall  again  there  must  have  been  thirty  or  forty  holes,  and 
"  Katie  "  said,  "  Isn't  that  a  nice  cullender  ?  " 

She  then  commenced,  whilst  we  stood  close  to  her,  to 
shake  her  skirt  gently  about,  and  in  a  minute  it  was  as 
perfect  as  before,  without  a  hole  to  be  seen.  When  we 
expressed  our  astonishment,  she  told  me  to  take  the  scis- 
sors and  cut  off  her  hair.  She  had  a  profusion  of  ringlets 
falling  to  her  waist  that  night.  I  obeyed  religiously,  hack- 
ing the  hair  wherever  I  could,  whilst  she  kept  on  saying, 
"  Cut  more !  cut  more !  not  for  yourself,  you  know, 
because  you  can't  take  it  away." 

So  I  cut  off  curl  after  curl,  and  as  fast  as  they  fell  to  the 
ground,  the  hair  greio  agaifi  upon  her  head.  When  I  had 
finished,  "  Katie  "  asked  me  to  examine  her  hair,  to  see  if  I 
could  detect  any  place  where  I  had  used  the  scissors,  and 
I  did  so  without  any  effect.  Neither  was  the  severed  hair 
to  be  found.  It  had  vanished  out  of  sight.  "  Katie  "  was 
photographed  many  times,  by  limelight,  by  Mr.  Alfred 
Crookes,  but  her  portraits  are  all  too  much  like  her  medium 
to  be  of  any  value  in  establishing  her  claim  to  a  separate 
identity.  She  had  always  stated  she  should  not  appear  on 
this  earth  after  the  month  of  May,  1874;  and  accordingly, 
on  the  2ist,  she  assembled  her  friends  to  say  '•'  Good-bye  " 
to  them,  and  I  was  one  of  the  number.  "  Katie  "  had 
asked  Miss  Cook  to  provide  her  with  a  large  basket  of 
flowers  and  ribbons,  and  she  sat  on  the  floor  and  made  up  a 
bouquet  for  each  of  her  friends  to  keep  in  remembrance  of 
her. 

Mine,  which  consists  of  lilies  of  the  valley  and  pink  gera- 
nium, looks  almost  as  fresh  to-day,  nearly  seventeen  years 
after,  as  it  did  when  she  gave  it  to  me.  It  was  accompanied 
by  the  following  words,  which  "  Katie  "  wrote  on  a  sheet 
of  paper  in  my  presence  :— 

"  From  Annie  Owen  de  Morgan  {alias  '  Katie  ')  to  her 
friend  Florence  Marryat  Ross-Church.  With  love.  Pensez 
a  moi. 

''May  21st,   1874." 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  145 

The  farewell  scene  was  as  pathetic  as  if  we  had  been 
parting  with  a  dear  companion  by  death.  "  Katie  "  her- 
self did  not  seem  to  know  how  to  go.  She  returned  again 
and  again  to  have  a  last  look,  especially  at  Mr.  Alfred 
Crookes,  who  was  as  attached  to  her  as  she  was  to  him. 
Her  prediction  has  been  fulfilled,  and  from  that  day,  Flo- 
rence Cook  never  saw  her  again  nor  heard  anything  about 
her.  Her  place*  was  shortly  filled  by  another  influence, 
who  called  herself  "  Marie,"  and  who  danced  and  sung  in 
a  truly  professional  style,  and  certainly  as  Miss  Cook  never 
either  danced  or  sung.  I  should  not  have  mentioned  the 
appearance  of  this  spirit,  whom  I  only  saw  once  or  twice, 
excepting  for  the  following  reason.  On  one  occasion  Miss 
Cook  (then  Mrs.  Corner)  was  giving  a  public  seance  at 
the  rooms  of  the  National  British  Association  of  Spiritual- 
ists, at  which  a  certain  Sir  George  Sitwell,  a  very  young 
man,  was  present,  and  at  which  he  declared  that  the  me- 
dium cheated,  and  that  the  spirit  "  Marie "  was  herself, 
dressed  up  to  deceive  the  audience.  Letters  appeared  in 
the  newspapers  about  it,  and  the  whole  press  came  down 
upon  Spiritualists,  and  declared  them  all  to  be  either 
knaves  or  fools.  These  notices  were  published  on  the 
morning  of  a  day  on  which  Miss  Cook  was  engaged  to  give 
another  public  seance,  at  which  I  was  present.  She  was 
naturally  very  much  cut  up  about  them.  Her  reputation 
was  at  stake  ;  her  honor  had  been  called  into  question,  and 
being  a  proud  girl,  she  resented  it  bitterly.  Her  present 
audience  was  chiefly  composed  of  friends ;  but,  before 
commencing,  she  put  it  to  us  whether,  whilst  under  such  a 
stigma,  she  had  better  not  sit  at  all.  We,  who  had  all 
tested  her  and  believed  in  her,  were  unanimous  in  repu- 
diating the  vile  charges  brought  against  her,  and  in  begging 
the  seance  should  proceed.  Florrie  refused,  however,  to  sit 
unless  some  one  rernained  in  the  cabinet  with  her,  and  she 
chose  me  for  the  purpose.  I  was  therefore  tied  to  her 
securely  with  a  stout  rope,  and  we  remained  thus  fastened 
together  for  the  whole  of  the  evening.  Under  which  con- 
ditions "  Marie  "  appeared,  and  sung  and  danced  outside 
the  cabinet,  just  as  she  had  done  to  Sir  George  Sitwell 
whilst  her  medium  remained  tied  to  me.  So  much  for 
men  who  decide  a  matter  before  they  have  sifted  it  to  the 
bottom.  Mrs.  Elgie  Corner  has  long  since  given  up 
mediumship  either  private  or  public,  and  lives  deep  down 

10 


146  THERE  IS  NO   DEATH. 

in  the  heart  of  Wales,  where  the  babble  and  scandal  of  the 
city  affect  hef  no  longer.  But  she  told  me,  only  last  year, 
that  she  would  not  pass  through  the  suffering  she  had 
endured  on  account  of  Spiritualism  again  for  all  the  good 
this  world  could  give  her. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  147 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   MEDIUMSHIP    OF    KATIE  COOK. 

In  the  matter  of  producing  physical  phenomena  the  Cooks 
are  a  most  remarljable  family,  all  three  daughters  being 
powerful  media,  and  that  without  any  solicitation  on  their 
part.  The  second  one,  Katie,  is  by  no  means  the  least 
powerful  of  the  three,  although  she  has  sat  more  privately 
than  her  sister  Florence,  and  not  had  the  same  scientific 
tests  (I  believe)  applied  to  her.  The  first  time  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  testing  Katie's  mediumship  was  at  the  pri- 
vate rooms  of  Signor  Rondi,  in  a  circle  of  nine  or  ten 
friends.  The  apartment  was  small  and  sj^arsely  furni:;hed, 
being  an  artist's  studio.  The  gas  was  kept  burning,  and 
before  the  sitting  commenced  the  door  was  locked  and 
strips  of  paper  pasted  over  the  opening  inside.  The  cabi- 
net was  formed  of  a  window  curtain  nailed  across  one 
corner  of  the  room,  behind  which  a  chair  was  placed  for 
the  medium,  who  is  a  remarkably  small  and  slight  girl — 
much  slighter  than  her  sister  Florence — with  a  thin  face 
and  delicate  features.  She  was  dressed,  on  this  occasion, 
in  a  tight-fitting  black  gown  and  Hessian  boots  that 
buttoned  half-way  to  her  knee,  and  which,  she  informed 
me,  she  always  wore  when  sitting  (just  as  Miss  Showers 
did),  because  they  had  each  eighteen  buttons,  which  took 
a  long  time  to  fasten  and  unfasten.  The  party  sat  in  a 
semicircle,  close  outside  the  curtain,  and  the  light  was 
lowered,  but  not  extinguished.  There  was  no  darkness, 
and  no  holding  of  hands.  I  mention  these  facts  to  show 
how  very  simple  the  preparations  were.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  curtain  was  lifted,  and  a  form,  clothed  in  white,  who 
called  herself  "  Lily,"  was  presented  to  our  view.  She 
answered  several  questions  relative  to  herself  and  the 
medium  ;  and  perceiving  some  doubt  on  the  part  of  some 
of  the  sitters,  she  seated  herself  on  my  knee,  I  being  near- 
est the  curtain,  and  asked  me  to.feel  her  body,  and  tell  the 
others  how  diflferently  she  was  made  from  the  medium.     I 


148  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

had  already  realized  that  she  was  much  heavier  than  Katie 
Cook,  as  she  felt  like  a  heavy  girl  of  nine  or  ten  stone.  I 
then  passed  my  hand  up  and  down  her  figure.  She  had 
full  breasts  and  plump  arms  and  legs,  and  could  not  have 
been  mistaken  by  the  most  casual  observers  for  Miss  Cook. 
Whilst  she  sat  on  my  knee,  however,  she  desired  my  hus- 
band and  Signer  Rondi  to  go  inside  the  curtain  and  feel 
that  the  medium  was  seated  in  her  chair.  When  they  did 
so,  they  found  Katie  was  only  half  entranced.  She  thrust 
her  feet  out  to  view,  and  said,  "  I  am  not  '  Lily;  '  feel  my 
boots."  My  husband  had,  at  the  same  moment,  one  hand 
on  Miss  Cook's  knee,  and  the  other  stretched  out  to  feel 
the  figure  seated  on  my  lap.  There  remained  no  doubt  in 
his  mind  of  there  being  two  bodies  there  at  the  same  time. 
Presently  "  Lily "  passed  her  hand  over  my  dress,  and 
remarked  how  nice  and  warm  it  was,  and  how  she  wished 
she  had  one  on  too.  I  asked  her,  "Are  you  cold?"  and 
she  said,  "  Wouldn't  you  be  cold  if  you  had  nothing  but 
this  white  thing  on  ?  "  Half-jestingly,  I  took  my  fur  cloak, 
which  was  on  a  sofa  close  by,  and  put  it  round  her  shoulders, 
and  told  her  to  wear  it.  "  Lily  "  seemed  delighted.  She 
exclaimed;  "  Oh,  how  warm  it  is  !  May  I  take  it  away  with 
me  ?  "  I  said,  "  Yes,  if  you  will  bring  it  back  before  I  go 
home.  I  have  nothing  else  to  wear,  remember."  She 
promised  she  would,  and  left  my  side.  In  another  moment 
she  called  out,  "  Turn  up  the  gas  !  "  We  did  so.  "  Lily  " 
was  gone,  and  so  was  my  large  fur  cloak  !  We  searched  the 
little  room  round  for  it.  It  had  entirely  disappeared. 
There  was  a  locked  cupboard  in  which  Signor  Rondi  kept 
drawing  materials.  I  insisted  on  its  being  opened,  although 
he  declared  it  had  not  been  unlocked  for  weeks,  and  we 
found  it  full  of  dust  and  drawing  blocks,  but  nothing  else, 
so  the  light  was  again  lowered,  and  the  seance  resumed. 
In  a  short  time  the  heavy  cloak  was  flung,  apparently  from 
the  ceiling,  evidently  from  somewhere  higher  than  my 
head,  and  fell  right  over  it. 

I  laid  it  again  on  the  sofa,  and  thought  no  more  about  it 
until  I  returned  home.  I  then  found,  to  my  astonishment, 
and  considerably  to  my  annoyance,  that  the  fur  of  my  cloak 
(which  was  a  new  one)  was  all  coming  out.  My  dress  was 
covered  with  it,  and  from  that  day  I  was  never  able  to  wear 
the  cloak  again.  "  Lily"  said  she  had  ^^-materialized  it, 
to  take  it  away.     Of  the  truth  of  that  assertion  I  had  no 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH.  149 

proof,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  she  did  not  put  it  together 
again  when  she  brought  it  back.  An  army  of  moths 
encamped  in  it  could  not  have  damaged  it  more,  and  I  can 
vouch  that  until  that  evening  the  fur  had  been  as  perfect 
as  when  1  purchased  it. 

I  think  my  next  sitting  with  Katie  Cook  was  at  a 
seance  held  in  Museum  Street,  and  on  the  invitation 
of  jMr.  Chas.  Blackburn,  who  is  one  of  the  most  earn- 
est friends  of  Spiritualism,  and  has  expended  a  large 
amount  of  money  in  its  research.  The  only  other  guests 
were  my  husband,  and  General  and  Mrs.  Maclean.  We 
sat  round  a  small  uncovered  table  with  the  gas  burning 
and  without  a  cabinet,  Miss  Katie  Cook  had  a  seat  be- 
tween General  Maclean  and  myself,  and  we  made  sure  of 
her  proximity  to  us  during  the  whole  seafice.  In  fact,  I 
never  let  go  of  her  hand,  and  even  when  she  wished  to  use 
her  pocket-handkerchief,  she  had  to  do  it  with  my  hand 
clinging  to  her  own.  Neither  did  she  go  into  a  trance. 
We  spoke  to  her  occasionally  during  the  sitting,  and  she 
answered  us,  though  in  a  very  subdued  voice,  as  she  com- 
plained of  being  sick  and  faint.  In  about  twenty  minutes, 
during  which  the  usual  manifestations  occurred,  the 
materialized  form  of  "  Lily  "  appeared  in  the  tniddle  of  the 
table,  and  spoke  to  us  and  kissed  us  all  in  turn.  Her  face 
was  very  small,  and  she  was  only  formed  to  the  waist,  but 
her  flesh  was  quite  firm  and  warm.  Whilst  "  Lily  "  occu- 
pied the  table  in  the  full  sight  of  all  the  sitters,  and  I  had 
my  hand  upon  Miss  Cook's  figure  (for  I  kept  passing  my 
hand  up  and  down  from  her  face  to  her  knees,  to  make 
sure  it  was  not  only  a  hand  I  held),  some  one  grasped  my 
chair  from  behind  and  shook  it,  and  when  I  turned  my 
head  and  spoke,  in  a  moment  one  arm  was  round  my  neck 
and  one  round  the  neck  of  my  husband,  who  sat  next  to 
me,  whilst  the  voice  of  my  daughter  "  Florence  "  spoke  to 
us  both,  and  her  long  hair  and  her  soft  white  dress  swept 
over  our  faces  and  hands.  Her  hair  was  so  abundant  and 
long,  that  she  shook  it  out  over  my  lap,  that  I  might  feel 
its  length  and  texture.  I  asked  "  Florence  "  for  a  piece 
of  her  hair  and  dress,  and  scissors  not  being  forthcoming, 
"  Lily  "  materialized  more  fully,  and  walked  round  from 
the  other  side  of  the  table  and  cut  off  a  piece  of  "  Flor- 
ence's "  dress  herself  with  my  husband's  penknife,  but  said 
they  could  not  give  me  the  hair  that  time.     The  two  spirits 


I50  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

remained  with  us  for,  perhaps,  half  an  hour  or  more,  whilst 
General  Maclean  and  I  continued  to  hold  Miss  Cook  a 
prisoner.  The  power  then  failing,  they  disappeared,  but 
every  one  present  was  ready  to  take  his  oath  that  two  pre- 
sences had  been  with  us  that  never  entered  at  the  door.  The 
room  was  small  and  unfurnished,  the  gas  was  burning,  the 
medium  sat  for  the  whole  time  in  our  sight.  Mrs.  Mac- 
lean and  I  were  the  only  other  women  present,  yet  two 
girls  bent  over  and  kissed  us,  spoke  to  us,  and  placed 
their  bare  arms  on  our  necks  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
There  was  again  also  a  marked  difference  between  the 
medium  and  the  materializations.  I  have  already  described 
her  appearance.  Both  of  these  spirits  had  plump  faces 
and  figures,  my  daughter  **  Florence's  "  hands  especially 
being  large  and  firm,  and  her  loose  hair  nearly  down  to 
her  knees. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  holding  another  seance  with 
Katie  Cook  in  the  same  rooms,  when  a  new  manifes- 
tation occurred.  She  is  (as  I  have  said)  a  very  small 
woman,  with  very  short  arms.  I  am,  on  the  contrary,  a 
very  large  woman,  with  very  long  arms,  yet  the  arm  of  the 
hand  I  held  was  elongated  to  such  an  extent  that  it  reached 
the  sitters  on  the  other  side  of  the  table,  where  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  mine  to  follow  it.  I  should  think 
the  limb  must  have  been  stretched  to  thrice  its  natural 
length,  and  that  in  the  sight  of  everybody.  I  sat  again 
with  Katie  Cook  in  her  own  house,  where,  if  trickery  is 
employed,  sh^  had  every  opportunity  of  tricking  us,  but 
the  manifestations  were  much  the  same,  and  certainly  not 
more  marvellous  than  those  she  had  exhibited  in  the  houses 
of  strangers.  "  Lily  "  and  "  Florence  "  both  appeared  at 
the  same  time,  under  circumstances  that  admitted  of  no 
possibility  of  fraud.  My  husband  and  I  were  accompanied 
on  that  occasion  by  our  friends,  Captain  and  Mrs.  Kendal, 
and  the  order  of  sitting  round  the  table  was  as  follows  : — 
Myself,  Katie,  Captain  K.,  Florence  Cook,  my  husband, 
Mrs.  Cook,  Mrs.  Kendal.  Each  member  of  the  family,  it 
will  be  observed,  was  held  between  two  detectives,  and 
their  hands  were  not  once  set  free.  I  must  say  also  that 
the  seance  was  a  free  one,  courteously  accorded  us  on  the 
invitation  of  Mrs.  Cook ;  and  if  deception  had  been  in- 
tended, we  and  our  friends  might  just  as  well  have  been 
left  to  sit  with  Katie  alone,  whilst  the  other  members  of 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  15 1 

the  family  superintended  the  manifestation  of  the  "  ghosts  " 
outside.  Miss  Florence  Cook,  indeed  (Mrs.  Corner), 
objected  at  first  to  sitting  with  us,  on  the  score  that  her 
mediumship  usually  neutralized  that  of  her  sister,  but  her 
mother  insisted  on  her  joining  the  circle,  lest  any  suspicion 
should  be  excited  by  her  absence.  The  Cooks,  indeed, 
are,  all  of  them,  rather  averse  to  sitting  than  not,  and  cor- 
dially agree  in  disliking  the  powers  that  have  been  thrust 
upon  them  against  their  own  will. 

These  influences  take  possession  of  them,  unfitting  them 
for  more  practical  work,  and  they  must  live.  This  is,  I 
believe,  the  sole  reason  that  they  have  never  tried  to  make 
money  by  the  exercise  of  their  mediumship.  But  I,  for 
one,  fully  believe  them  when  they  tell  me  that  they  con- 
sider the  fact  of  their  being  media  as  the  greatest  misfor- 
tune that  has  ever  happened  to  them.  On  the  occasion  of 
this  last  seance,  cherries  and  rosebuds  were  showered  in 
profusion  on  the  table  during  the  evening.  These  may 
easily  be  believed  to  have  been  secreted  in  the  room  be- 
fore the  commencement  of  the  sitting,  and  produced  at  the 
proper  opportunity,  although  the  hands  of  everybody  in- 
terested in  their  production  were  fast  held  by  strangers. 
But  it  is  less  easy  to  believe  that  alady  of  limited  income, 
like  Mrs.  Cook,  should  go  to  such  an  expense  for  an  unpaid 
seance^  for  the  purpose  of  making  converts  of  people  who 
were  strangers  to  her.  Mediumship  pays  very  badly  as  it 
is.  I  am  afraid  it  would  pay  still  worse  if  the  poor  media 
had  to  purchase  the  means  for  producing  the  phenomena, 
especially  when,  in  a  town  like  London,  they  run  (as  in 
this  instance)  to  hothouse  fruit  and  flowers. 

One  more  example  of  Katie  Cook's  powers  and  I  have 
done.  We  were  assembled  one  evening  by  the  invitation  of 
Mr.  Charles  Blackburn  at  his  house,  Elgin  Crescent.  We  sat 
in  a  small  breakfast  room  on  the  basement  floor,  so  small, 
indeed,  for  the  size  of  the  party,  that  as  we  encircled  a 
large  round  table,  the  sitters'  backs  touched  the  wall  on 
either  side,  thus  entirely  preventing  any  one  crossing  the 
room  whilst  we  were  established  there.  The  only  piece  of 
furniture  of  any  consequence  in  the  room,  beside  the 
chairs  and  table,  was  a  trichord  cabinet  piano,  belonging 
to  Mrs.  Cook  (who  was  ke^eping  house  at  the  time  for  Mr. 
Blackburn),  and  which  she  much  valued. 

Katie  Cook  sat  amongst  us  as  usual.  In  the  middle  of 
the  seance  her  control  "  Lily,"  who  was  materialized,  called 


152  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

out,  "  Keep  hands  fast.  Don't  let  go,  whatever  you  do  !  " 
And  at  the  same  time,  without  seeing  anything  (for  we 
were  sitting  in  complete  darkness),  we  became  conscious 
that  something  large  and  heavy  was  passing  or  being 
carried  over  our  heads.  One  of  the  ladies  of  the  party 
became  nervous,  and  dropped  her  neighbor's  hand  with 
a  cry  of  alarm,  and,  at  the  same  moment,  a  weighty 
body  fell  with  a  fearful  crash  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room.  "  Lily  "  exclaimed,  "  Some  one  has  let  go  hands," 
and  Mrs.  Cook  called  out  ;  "  Oh  !  it's  my  piano."  Lights 
were  struck,  when  we  found  the  cabinet  piano  had  actually 
been  carried  from  its  original  position  right  over  our  heads 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  where  it  had  fallen  on  the 
floor  and  been  seriously  damaged.  The  two  carved  legs 
were  broken  off,  and  the  sounding  board  smashed  in.  Any 
one  who  had  heard  poor  Mrs.  Cook's  lamentations  over 
the  ruin  of  her  favorite  instrument,  and  the  expense  it 
would  entail  to  get  it  restored,  would  have  felt  little  doubt 
as  to  whether  she  had  been  a  willing  victim  to  this  unwel- 
come proof  of  her  daughter's  physical  mediumship. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  153 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  BESSIE  FITZGERALD. 

One  evening  I  went  to  have  a  cup  of  tea  with  my  friend 
Miss  Schonberg  at  Shepherd's  Bush,  when  she  proposed 
that  we  should  go  and  have  a  seance  with  Mrs.  Henry 
Jencken  (Kate  Fox),  who  Hved  close  by.  I  hailed  the 
idea,  as  I  had  heard  such  great  things  of  the  medium  in 
question,  and  never  had  an  opportunity  of  testing  them. 
Consequently,  I  was  proportionately  disappointed  when, 
on  sending  round  to  her  house  to  ask  if  she  could  receive 
us  that  evening,  we  received  a  message  to  say  that  Mr. 
Jencken,  her  husband,  had  died  that  morning,  and  she 
could  see  no  one.  Miss  Schonberg  and  I  immediately  cast 
about  in  our  minds  to  see  what  we  should  do  with  our 
time,  and  she  suggested  we  should  call  on  Mrs.  Fitzgerald. 
"  Who  is  Mrs.  Fitzgerald?"  I  queried.  "  A  wonderful 
medium,"  replied  my  friend,  "  whom  I  met  at  Mrs.  Wilson's 
last  week,  and  who  gave  me  leave  to  call  on  her.  Let  us 
go  together.  And  accordingly  we  set  forth  for  Mrs.  Fitz- 
gerald's residence  in  the  Goldhawk  Road.  I  only  men- 
tion these  circumstances  to  show  how  utterly  unpreme- 
ditated was  my  first  visit  to  her.  We  arrived  at  her  house, 
and  were  ushered  into  a  sitting-room,  Miss  Schonberg  only 
sending  up  her  name.  In  a  few  minutes  the  door  opened, 
and  a  small,  fair  woman,  dressed  in  black  velvet,  entered 
the  room.  Miss  Schonberg  saluted  her,  and  was  about  to 
tender  some  explanation  regarding  my  presence  there,  when 
Mrs.  Fitzgerald  walked  straight  up  to  me  and  took  my 
hand.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  dilate  and  contract,  like  the 
opening  and  shutting  off  of  a  light,  in  a  manner  which  I 
have  often  seen  since,  and  she  uttered  rapidly,  "  You  have 
been  married  once ;  you  have  been  married  twice ;  and 
you  will  be  married  a  third  time."  I  answered,  "  If  you 
know  anything,  Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  you  must  know  that  I  am 
very  much  attached  to  my  husband,  and  that  your  informa- 
tion can  give  me  no  pleasure  to  hear."     "  No  !  "  she  said, 


154  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

"no!  I  suppose  not,  but  you  cannot  alter  Fate."  She 
then  proceeded  to  speak  of  things  in  my  past  Hfe 
which  had  had  the  greatest  influence  over  the  whole  of  it, 
occurrences  of  so  private  and  important  a  nature  that  it 
becomes  impossible  to  write  them  down  here,  and  for  that 
very  reason  doubly  convincing  to  the  person  whom  they 
concern.  Presently  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  wandered  to  her  piano, 
and  commenced  to  play  the  air  of  the  ballad  so  firmly  con- 
nected in  my  mind  with  John  Powles,  "  Thou  art  gone 
from  my  gaze,"  whilst  she  turned  and  nodded  at  me  saying, 
"  He's  here  ! "  In  fact,  after  a  couple  of  hours'  conversa- 
tion with  her,  I  felt  that  this  stranger  in  the  black  velvet 
dress  had  turned  out  every  secret  of  my  life,  and  laid  it 
naked  and  bare  before  me.  I  was  wonderfully  attracted  to 
her.  Her  personality  pleased  me  ;  her  lonely  life,  living 
with  her  two  babies  in  the  Goldhawk  Road,  made  me 
anxious  to  give  her  society  and  pleasure,  and  her  wonder- 
ful gifts  of  clairvoyance  and  trance  mediumship,  all  com- 
bined to  make  me  desire  her  friendship,  and  I  gave  her  a 
cordial  invitation  to  my  house  in  the  Regent's  Park,  where 
for  some  years  she  was  a  constant  visitor,  and  always  sure 
of  a  hearty  welcome.  It  was  due  to  her  kindness  that  I 
first  had  the  opportunity  to  study  trance  mediumship  at  my 
leisure,  and  in  a  short  time  we  became  so  familiar  with  her 
most  constant  control,  "  Dewdrop,"  a  Red  Indian  girl, 
and  so  accustomed  to  speak  through  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  with 
our  own  friends  gone  before,  that  we  welcomed  her  advent 
to  our  house  as  the  signal  for  holding  a  spiritual  party.  For 
the  sake  of  the  uninitiated  and  curious,  I  think  I  had  better 
here  describe  what  is  meant  by  trance  mediumship.  A 
person  thus  gifted  has  the  power  of  giving  him  or  herself 
up  to  the  control  of  the  influences  in  command,  who  send 
him  or  her  off"  to  sleep,  a  sleep  so  deep  and  so  like  death 
that  the  spirit  is  actually  parted  pro  tem  from  the  body, 
which  other  spirits,  sometimes  living,  but  far  oftener  dead, 
enter  and  use  as  if  it  were  their  own.  I  have  mentioned 
in  my  chapter  on  "  Embodied  Spirits  "  how  my  living 
friend  in  India  conversed  with  me  through  Bessie  Fitzgerald 
in  this  way,  also  how  "  Florence  "  spoke  to  me  through  the 
unconscious  lips  of  Mabel  Keningale  Cook. 

Of  course,  I  am  aware  that  it  would  be  so  easy  for  a 
medium  simply  to  close  her  eyes,  and,  professing  to  be  en- 
tranced, talk  a  lot  of  commonplaces,  which  open-mouthed 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  155 

fools  might  accept  as  a  new  gospel,  that  it  becomes  imper- 
ative to  test  this  class  of  media  strictly  by  what  they  utter, 
and  to  place  no  faith  in  them  until  you  are  convinced 
that  the  matters  they  speak  of  cannot  possibly  have  been 
known  to  any  one  except  the  friend  whose  mouthpiece  they 
profess  to  be.  All  this  I  fully  proved  for  myself  from 
repeated  trials  and  researches  j  but  the  unfortunate  part  of 
it  is,  that  the  more  forcible  and  convincing  the  private 
proof,  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  place  it  before  the  public. 
I  must  content  myself,  tlierefore,  with  saying  that  some  of 
my  dead  friends  (so  called)  came  back  to  me  so  frequently 
through  Bessie  Fitzgerald,  and  familiarized  themselves  so 
completely  with  my  present  life,  that  I  forgot  sometimes 
that  they  had  left  this  world,  and  flew  to  them  (or  rather  to 
Bessie)  to  seek  their  advice  or  ask  their  sympathy  as 
naturally  as  if  she  were  their  eartly  form.  Of  these  my 
daughter  "  Florence  "  was  necessarily  the  most  often  with 
me,  and  she  and  "  Dewdrop  "  generally  divided  the  time 
which  !Mrs.  Fitzgerald  spent  with  us  between  them.  I 
never  saw  a  control  so  completely  identified  with  its 
medium  as  "Dewdrop"  was  with  Bessie.  It  was  difficult 
at  times  to  know  which  was  which,  and  one  could  never 
be  certain  until  she  spoke  whether  the  spirit  or  the  medium 
had  entered  the  house.  When  she  did  speak,  however, 
there  was  no  mistaking  them.  Their  characters  were  so 
different.  Bessie  Fitzgerald,  a  quiet,  soft  spoken  little 
woman,  devoted  to  her  children,  and  generally  unobtrusive  ; 
"  Dewdrop,"  a  Sioux  Indian  girl,  wary  and  deep  as  her 
tribe  and  cute  and  saucy  as  a  Yankee,  with  an  amount 
of  devilry  in  her  that  must  at  times  have  proved  very 
inconvenient.  She  used  to  play  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  tricks 
in  those  days  that  might  have  brought  her  into  seri- 
ous trouble,  such  as  controlling  her  whilst  travelling 
in  an  omnibus,  and  talking  her  Yankee  Indian  to  the 
passengers  until  she  had  made  their  hair  stand  on  end, 
with  the  suspicion  that  they  had  a  lunatic  for  a  companion. 
One  evening  we  had  a  large  and  rather  "  swell "  evening 
party,  chiefly  composed  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
theatrical  profession,  and  entirely  of  non-spiritualists, 
excepting  ourselves.  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  had  been  invited  to 
this  party,  and  declined,  because  it  was  out  of  her  line.  We 
were  therefore  rather  astonished,  when  all  the  guests  were 
assembled,  to  hear  her  name  announced  and  see  her  enter 


156  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  room  in  a  morning  dress.     Directly  I  cast  eyes  upon 
her,  however,  I  saw  that  it  was  not  herself,  but  "  Dewdrop." 
The  stride   with  which -she  walked,   the  waggish  way  she 
rolled  from   side   to  side,  the  devilry  in  her  eye,  all  be- 
tokened the  Indian  control.     To  make  matters   worse,  she 
went  straight  up  to  Colonel  Lean,  and,  throwing  herself  on 
the  ground  at  his  feet,  affectionately  laid  her  head  upon  his 
knee,  and  said,  "  I'se  come  to   the  party."     Imagine  the 
astonishment  of  our  guests  !    I  was  obliged  at  once,  in 
defence  of  my  friend,   to    explain   to   them  how   matters 
stood ;  and  though   they  looked  rather  incredulous,    they 
were  immensely  interested,  and  "  Dewdrop's  "  visit  proved 
to  be  the  event  of  the   evening.     She  talked   to  each  one 
separately,  telling  them  liome  truths,  and  prophesying  their 
future  in  a  way  that  made  their  cheeks  go  pale  with  fright, 
or  red  Avith  conscious  shame,  and  there  was  quite  a  contest 
between  the  men  as  to  who  should  take  "  Dewdrop  "  down 
to  the  supper  table.     When  there,  she  made  herself  parti- 
cularly lively,  making  personal  remarks  aloud   that  were, 
in  some  instances,   rather  trying  to  listen   to,  and  which 
Bessie  Fitzgerald  would  have  cut  out  her  tongue  sooner 
than  utter.  She  ate,  too,  of  dishes  which  would  have  made 
Bessie  ill  for  a  week.  This  was  another  strange  peculiarity 
of  "  Dewdrop's  "  control.     She  not  only  ousted  the  spirit ; 
she  regulated  the  internal  machinery  of  her  medium's  body. 
Bessie  in  her  normal  condition  was  a  very  delicate  woman 
with  a  weak  heart  and  lungs,  and  obliged  to  be  most  care- 
ful in  her  diet.     She  ate  like  a  sparrow,  and  of  the  simplest 
things.  "  Dewdrop,"  on  the  other  hand,  liked  indigestible 
food,  and  devoured  it  freely  ;  yet  Bessie  has  told  me  that 
she  never  felt  any  inconvenience  from  the    food  amalga- 
mated with  her  system  whilst  under  "  Dewdrop's  "control. 
One  day  when  Mrs.  Fitzgarald  was  dining  with  us,  we  had 
some  apples  at  dessert,  which  she  would  have  liked  to  par- 
take of,  but  was  too  much  afraid  of  the  after  consequences. 
"  I  dare  not,"  she  said  ;  "  if  I  were  to  eat  a  raw  apple,  I 
should  have  indigestion  for  a  week."  She  took  some  pre- 
served ginger  instead ;  and  we  were  proceeding  with  our 
dessert,  when  I  saw  her  hand  steal  out  and  grasp  an  apple. 
I  looked  in  her  face.     "  Dewdrop  "  had  taken  her  place. 
"  Dewdrop/'  I  said,  authoritatively,    "  you  must  not  eat 
that.     You  will  hurt  Bessie.     Put  it  down  directly." 

•'  I    shan't,"    replied    "  Dewdrop,"    drawing   the    dish 
towards  her  ;  "  I  like  apples.  I'm  always  wanting  '  Medy  ' 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 


157 


to  eat  them,  and  she  won't,  so  she  must  go  away  till  I've 
had  as  many  as  I  want."  And  in  effect  she  ate  three  or 
four  of  them,  and  Bessie  would  never  have  been  cogni- 
zant of  the  fact  unless  I  had  informed  her.  On  the  occa- 
sion of  the  party  to  whicli  she  came  uninvited,  "  Dewdrop  " 
remained  with  us  to  the  very  last,  and  went  home  in  a  cab, 
and  landed  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  at  her  house  without  her  being 
aware  that  she  had  ever  left  it.  At  that  time  we  were  con- 
stantly at  each  other's  houses,  and  many  an  evening  have 
I  spent  alone  with  Bessie  in  the  Goldhawk  Road,  her  ser- 
vant out  marketing  and  her  little  children  asleep  in  the 
room  overhead.  Her  baby  was  then  a  great  fat  fellow  of 
about  fifteen  months  old,  who  was  given  to  waking  and 
crying  for  his  mother.  If  "  Dewdrop  "  were  present,  she  was 
always  very  impatient  with  these  interruptions.  "  Bother 
dat  George,"  she  would  say ;  "  I  must  go  up  and  quiet 
him."  Then  she  would  disappear  for  a  few  minutes,  while 
Bessie  woke  and  talked  to  me,  and  then,  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye,  "Dewdrop"  would  be  back  again.  One  day, 
apparently,  '•  George "  would  not  be  comforted,  for  on 
'•  Dewdrop's  "  return  she  said  to  me,  "  It's  no  good  ;  I've 
had  to  bring  him  down.  He's  on  the  mat  outside  the  door ; " 
and  there,  sure  enough,  we  found  the  poor  baby  wailing  in 
his  nightshirt.  Not  being  able  to  walk,  how  he  had  been 
spirited  from  the  top  storey  to  the  bottom  I  leave  my 
readers  to  determine.  Bessie's  little  girl  ^Mabel  promised 
to  be  as  wonderful  a  medium  as  her  mother.  She  would 
come  in  from  the  garden  flushed  from  her  play  with  the 
"  spirit-children,"  of  whom  she  talked  as  familiarly  as  of 
her  little  neighbors  next  door.  I  have  watched  her  playing 
at  ball  with  an  invisible  child,  and  have  seen  the  ball 
thrown,  arrested  half-way  in  the  air,  and  then  -tossed  back 
again  just  as  if  a  living  child  had  been  Mab's  opponent.  I 
had  lost  several  infants  from  premature  birth  during  my 
second  marriage,  and  the  eldest  of  these,  a  girl,  appeared  to 
be  a  constant  companion  of  Mabel's.  She  was  always  talking 
of  what  "  Mrs.  Lean's  girl"  (as  she  called  her)  had  done 
and  said  ;  and  one  day  she  had  a  violent  fit  of  weeping 
because  her  mother  would  .not  promise  to  buy  her  a  frock 
like  the  one  "  Mrs.  Lean's  girl''  wore. 

Apropos  of  these  still-born  children,  I  had  a  curious 
experience  with  Mrs.  Fitzgerald.  I  had  had  no  idea  until 
then  that  children  so  born  possessed  any  souls,  or  lived 


1S8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

again,  but  "  Florence"  undeceived  me  when  she  told  me 
she  had  charge  ofher  little  brothers  and  sisters.  She  even 
professed  to  know  the  names  by  which  they  were  known  in 
the  spirit  world.  When  a  still-born  baby  is  launched  upon 
the  other  side,  she  said  it  is  delivered  over  to  the  nearest 
relative  of  its  parent,  to  be  called  by  what  name  he  may 
choose.  Thus  my  first  girl  was  christened  by  Colonel 
Lean's  mother  "  Gertrude,"  after  a  bosom  friend  of  her's, 
and  my  second  my  father  named  "  Joan,"  as  he  said  it  was 
his  favorite  female  name.  Upon  subsequent  inquiry,  we 
found  that  Mrs.  Lean  had -x  friend  called  "  Gertrude,"  and 
that  "  Joan  "  was  distinctly  Captain  Marryat's  beau  ideal 
of  a  woman's  name.  However,  that  signified  but  little.  I 
became  very  curious  to  see  or  speak  with  these  unknown 
babies  of  mine,  and  used  to  worry  "  Florence  "  to  bring 
them  to  me.  She  would  expostulate  with  me  after  this 
fashion  :  "  Dear  mother,  be  reasonable.  Remember  what 
babies  they  are,  and  that  this  world  is  quite  strange  to  them. 
When  your  earthly  children  were  small  you  never 
allowed  them  to  be  brought  down  before  strangers,  for 
fear  they  should  cry.  '  Gertie '  and  '  Yonnie '  would 
behave  just  the  same  if  I  brought  them  back  to  you  now." 
However,  I  went  on  teasing  her  till  she  made  the  attempt, 
and  "  Gertie  "  returned  through  Mrs.  Fitzgereld.  It  was  a 
long  time  before  we  could  coax  her  to  remain  with  us,  and 
when  she  overcame  her  first  shyness,  it  was  like  talking  to 
a  little  savage.  "  Gertie "  didn't  know  the  meaning  of 
anything,  or  the  names  of  anything.  Her  incessant  ques- 
tions of  "  What's  a  father?"  "What  a  mother?"  "What's 
a  dog?"  were  very  difircult  to  answer;  but  she  would 
chatter  about-  the  spirit-world,  and  what  she  did  there,  as 
glibly  as  possible.  She  told  us  that  she  knew  her  brother 
Francis  (the  lad  who  was  drowned  at  sea)  very  well,  and 
she  "  ran  races,  and  Francis  '  chivied  '  her ;  and  when  he 
caught  her,  he  held  her  under  the  fountain,  and  the  spray 
wetted  her  frock,  and  made  it  look  like  silver."  The  word 
"  chivied'"  sounding  to  me  very  much  of  a  mundane  charac- 
ter, I  asked  "  Gertie  "  where  she  learned  it ;  and  she  said, 
"  Francis  says  '  chivy,'  so  /  may,"  and  it  was  indeed  a 
common  expression  with  him.  "  Gertie  "  took,  after  a 
while,  such  a  keen  interest  in  my  ornaments  and  china, 
rather  to  their  endangerment,  that  I  bought  a  doll  to  see 
if  she  would  play  with  it.     At  first  she  was  vastly  deUjfhted 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  159 

with  the  "little  spirit,"  as  she  called  it,  and  nursed  it  just 
as  a  mortal  child  would  have  done.  But  when  she  began 
to  question  me  as  to  the  reason  the  doll  did  not  look  at  her, 
or  answer  her,  or  move  about,  and  I  said  it  was  because  it 
was  not  alive,  she  was  dreadfully  disappointed.  "  Not 
alive  !  "  she  echoed ;  "  didn't  God  make  it  ?  "  and  when 
I  replied  in  the  negative,  she  threw  it  to  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  and  would  never  look  at  it  again. 

"  Gertie  "  was  about  five  years  old  at  this  period,  and 
seemed  to  have  a  great  idea  of  her  own  importance.  She 
always  announced  herself  as  "The  Princess  Gertie,"  and 
was  very  dignified  in  her  behavior.  One  day,  when  a 
lady  friend  was  present  when  "  (Gertie  "  came  and  asked 
her  to  kiss  her,  she  extended  her  hand  instead  of  her  face, 
saying,  "  You  may  kiss  my  hand." 

"  Yonnie  "  (as  "  Joan  "  called  herself)  was  but  eighteen 
months  old,  and  used  to  manifest  herself,  roaring  like  a 
child  forcibly  dragged  before  strangers,  and  the  only  word 
we  could  ever  extract  from  her  was  "  Sugar-plums,"  Ac- 
cordingly, I  invested  in  some  for  her  benefit,  with  which 
she  filled  her  mouth  so  full  as  nearly  to  choke  the  medium, 
and  "  Florence  "  rebuked  me  seriously  for  my  carelessness, 
and  threatened  never  to  bring  "  Yonnie  "  down  to  this 
earth  again.  There  had  been  three  other  children — boys 
— whom  I  was  equally  anxious  to  see  again,  but,  for  some 
inexplicable  reason,  "  Florence  "  said  it  was  impossible 
that  they  could  manifest.  The  little  girls,  however,  came 
until  we  were  quite  familiar  with  them.  I  am  aware  that 
all  this  must  sound  very  childish,  but  had  it  not  borne  a 
remarkable  context,  I  should  not  have  related  it.  All  the 
wonder  of  it  will  be  found  later  on. 

Mrs.  Fitzgerald  suffered  very  much  at  this  time  from  in- 
somnia, which  she  always  declared  was  benefitted  after  a 
visit  to  me.  I  proposed  one  night,  therefore,  when  she  had 
stayed  with  us  later  than  usual,  that  she  should  remain  and 
share  my  bed,  and  return  home  in  the  morning.  She  con- 
sented, and  at  the  usual  hour  we  retired  to  rest  together,  I 
taking  care  to  lock  the  bedroom  door  and  keep  the  gas  burn- 
ing ;  indeed,  Bessie  was  so  nervous  of  what  she  might  see 
that  she  would  not  have  remained  in  the  dark  for  any  con- 
sideration. The  bed  we  occupied  was  what  is  called  a  half 
tester,  with  a  canopy  and  curtains  on  either  side.  As  soon 
as  ever  Bessie  got  into  it,  she  burrowed  under  the  clothes 


i6o  THERE   IS   iVO    DEATH. 

like  a  dormouse,  and  went  fast  asleep.  I  was  too  curious  to 
see  what  miglit  happen  to  follow  her  example,  so  my  head 
remained  on  the  pillow,  and  my  eyes  wide  open,  and  turn- 
ing in  every  direction.  Presently  I  saw  the  curtains  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  bed  gently  shaken,  next  a  white 
hand  and  arm  appeared  round  them,  and  was  passed  up 
and  down  the  ridge  that  represented  Bessie  Fitzgerald's 
body;  finally,  after  several  times  stepping  forward  and 
retreating  again,  a  female  figure  emerged  and  walked  to 
the  foot  of  the  bedstead  and  stood  there  regarding  me. 
She  was,  to  all  appearance,  as  solidly  formed  as  any  human 
creature  could  be,  and  she  was  as  perfectly  distinct  as 
though  seen  by  daylight.  Her  head  and  bust  reminded 
me  at  once  of  the  celebrated  "  Clytie,"  they  were  so  classi- 
cally and  beautifully  formed.  Her  hair  and  skin  were  fair, 
her  eyes  luminously  liquid  and  gentle,  her  whole  attitude 
one  of  modest  dignity.  She  was  clothed  in  some  creamy 
white  material,  thick  and  soft,  and  intermixed  with  dull 
gold.  She  wore  no  ornaments,  but  in  her  right  hand  she 
carried  a  long  branch  of  palm,  or  olive,  or  myrtle,  some- 
thing tall  and  tapering,  and  of  dark  green.  She  scarcely 
could  be  said  to  smile  at  me,  but  there  was  an  indescrib- 
able appearance  of  peace  and  tranquillity  about  her.  When 
I  described  this  apparition  to  Bessie  in  the  morning,  she 
recognized  it  at  once  as  that  of  her  control,  "  Goodness," 
whom  she  had  seen  clairvoyantly,  but  she  affirmed  that  I 
was  the  only  person  who  had  ever  given  her  a  correct  des- 
cription of  this  influence,  which  was  the  best  and  purest 
about  her.  After  "Goodness"  had  remained  in  the  same 
position  for  a  few  minutes,  she  walked  back  again  behind 
the  curtain,  which  served  as  a  cabinet,  and  "  Florence  " 
came  out  and  had  a  whispered  conversation  with  me. 
Next  a  dark  face,  but  only  a  face,  said  to  be  that  of 
"  Dewdrop,"  peeped  out  four  or  five  times,  and  disap- 
peared again  ;  then  a  voice  said,  "  No  more  !  good-night," 
and  I  turned  round  to  where  Bessie  lay  sleeping  beside 
me,  and  went  to  sleep  myself.  After  that,  she  often  came, 
when  suffering  worse  than  usual  from  insomnia,  to  pass  the 
night  with  me,  as  she  said  my  magnetism  caused  her  to 
sleep,  and  similar  manifestations  always  occurred  when  we 
were  alone  and  together. 

Mrs.  Fitzgerald's  mediumship  was  by  no  means  used, 
however,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  gratifying  curiosity  or 


THERE    IS   NO   DEATH.  l6l 

foretelling  the  future.  She  was  a  wonderful  medical 
diagnoser,  and  sat  for  a  long  time  in  the  service  of  a  well- 
known  medical  man.  She  would  be  ensconced  in  a  corner 
of  his  waiting-room  and  tell  him  the  exact  disease  of  each 
patient  that  entered.  She  told  me  she  could  see  the  in- 
side of  everybody  as  perfectly  as  though  they  were  made 
of  glass.  This  gift,  however,  induced  her  to  take  on  a 
reflection  (as  it  were)  of  the  disease  she  diagnosed,  and 
after  a  while  her  failing  strength  compelled  her  to  give  it 
up.  Her  control  "  Dewdrop  "  was  what  she  called  herself, 
"a  metal  spirit,"  i.e.,  her  advice  was  very  trustworthy 
with  regard  to  all  speculations  and  monetary  transactions. 
Many  stockbrokers  and  city  men  used  regularly  to  con- 
sult Bessie  before  they  engaged  in  any  speculation,  and 
she  received  many  valuable  presents  in  return  for  her 
assistance  in  "  making  a  pile."  One  gentleman,  indeed, 
settled  a  large  sum  of  money  when  he  died  on  her  little 
son  in  gratitude  for  the  fortune  "  Dewdrop  "  had  helped 
him  to  accumulate.  Persons  who  sneer  at  Spiritualism  and 
declare  it  to  be  useless,  little  know  Kow  much  advantage  is 
taken  of  spiritual  forethought  and  prevision  by  those  who 
believe  in  it.  I  have  never  been  sorry  but  when  I  have 
neglected  to  follow  the  advice  of  a  medium  whom  I  had 
proved  to  be  trustworthy. 

In  the  autumn  of  1883  I  introduced  my  own  entertain- 
ment of  "  Love  Letters  "  to  the  provincial  British  public, 
and  it  had  an  immediate  and  undeniable  success.  My  en- 
gagements poured  in  rapidly,  and  I  had  already  booked 
dates  for  the  whole  spring  of  1884,  when  Mr.  Edgar  Bruce 
offered  me  an  engagement  at  the  Prince  of  Wales'  (then 
the  Prince's)  Theatre,  about  to  be  opened  in  Piccadilly. 
I  had  been  anxiously  waiting  to  obtain  an  engagement  on 
the  London  boards,  and  was  eager  to  accept  it ;  still,  I 
did  not  know  if  I  would  be  wise  in  relinquishing  my  pro- 
vincial engagements.  I  wrote  to  Bessie  to  ask  "  Dew- 
drop  "  what  I  should  do ;  the  answer  was,  "  Don't  accept, 
only  a  flash  in  the  pan."  Thereupon  I  sent  to  Mr.  Bruce 
to  ask  how  long  the  engagement  w«is  likely  to  last, 
and  his  answer  was  that  he  expected  "  The  Palace  of 
Truth  "  to  run  a  year  at  least,  and  at  any  rate  I  was  to 
consider  myself  one  of  a  "  stock  company."  Thereupon  I 
cancelled  all  my  entertainment  engagements,  returned  to 
London,  appeared  at  the  Prince's  Theatre  for  \w%\.  eleven 

11 


l62  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

weeks,  and  got  into  four  law  suits  with  my  disappointed 
patrons  for  \\\y  trouble. 

It  is  one  of  the  commonest  remarks  made  by  stupid- 
people,  "  If  the  spirits  know  anything,  let  them  tell 
me  the  name  of  the  winner  of  the  Derby,  and  then 
I  will  believe  them,"  etc.  I  was  speaking  of  this  once 
to  "  Dewdrop,"  and  she  said,  "  We  could  tell  if  we 
choose,  but  we  are  not  allowed  to  do  so.  If  Spiritual- 
ism was  generally  used  for  such  things,  all  the  world 
would  rush  to  it  in  order  to  cheat  one  another.  But 
if  you  will  promise  me  not  to  open  it  until  after  the  Derby 
is  run,  I  will  give  you  the  name  of  the  winner  now  in  a 
sealed  envelope,  to  prove  that  what  I  say  is  the  truth." 
We  gave  her  the  requisite  materials,  and  she  made  a  few 
pencil  marks  on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  sealed  it  up.  It  was 
the  year  that  "  Shotover  "  won  the  Derby.  The  day  after 
the  race,  we  opened  the  envelope  and  found  the  drawing 
of  a  man  with  a  gun  in  his  hand,  a  hedge,  and  a  bird  flying 
away  on  the  other  side  ;  very  sketchy,  but  perfectly  in- 
telligible to  one  who  could  read  between  the  lines. 

I  was  at  the  theatre  one  night  with  Bessie  in  a  box,  v/hen  I 
found  out  that  "  Dewdrop  "  had  taken  her  place.  "  Dew- 
drop"  was  very  fond  of  going  to  the  play,  and  her  re- 
marks were  so  funny  and  so  na'ive  as  to  keep  one  con- 
stantly amused.  Presently,  between  the  acts,  she  said  to 
me,  "  Do  you  see  that  man  in  the  front  row  of  the  stalls 
with  a  bald  head,  sitting  next  to  the  old  lady  with  a  fat 
neck  ?  "  I  replied  I  did.  "  Now  you  watch,"  said  "  Dew- 
drop  ;  "  "  I'm  going  down  there  to  have  some  fun.  First 
I'll  tickle  the  old  man's  head,  and  then  I'll  scratch  the  old 
woman's  neck.  Now,  you  and  '  Medie  '  watch."  The 
next  moment  Bessie  spoke  to  me  in  her  own  voice,  and  I 
told  her  what  "  Dewdrop  "  proposed  to  do.  "  Oh,  poor 
things  ! "  she  said,  compassionately,  "  how  she  will  tor- 
ment them  !  "  To  watch  what  followed  was  a  perfect 
farce.  First,  the  old  man  put  his  hand  up  to  his  bald 
head,  and  then  he  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  flicked  it, 
then  he  rubbed  it,  "and  finally  scrubhed  it  to  alleviate  the 
increasing  irritation.  Then  the  old  lady  began  the  same 
business  with  her  neck,  and  finding  it  of  no  avail,  glared  at 
the  old  man  as  if  she  thought  he  had  done  it ;  in  fact,  they 
were  both  in  such  evident  torture  that  there  was  no  doubt 
*'  Dewdrop  "  had  kept  her  promise.   When  she  returned  to 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  163 

me  she  said,  "  There  !  didn't  you  see  me  walking  along 
the  front  row  of  stalls,  in  my  moccasins  and  beads  and 
feathers,  and  all  my  war-paint  on,  tickling  the  old  fellow's 
head  ?  "  "I  didn't  see  you,  *  Dewdrop,'  "  I  answered, 
"  but  I'm  sure  you  were  there."  "Ah  !  but  the  old  fellow 
felt  me,  and  so  did  the  old  girl,"  she  replied. 

Bessie  Fitzgerald  is  now  Mrs.  Russell  Davies,  and 
cajries  on  her  seances  in  Upper  Norwood.  No  one  who 
attends  them  can  fail  to  feel  interested  in  the  various  phe- 
nomena he  will  meet  with  there. 


1 64  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  LOTTIE  FOWLER. 

As  I  was  introduced  to  Lottie  Fowler  many  years  before  I 
met  Bessie  Fitzgerald,  I  suppose  the  account  of  her  medium- 
ship  should  have  come  first;  but  I  am  writing  this  vera- 
cious narrative  on  no  fixed  or  artificial  plan,  but  just  as  it 
occurs  to  me,  though  not  from  memory,  because  notes  were 
taken  of  every  particular  at  the  time  of  occurrence.  In 
1874  I  was  largely  employed  on  the  London  Press,  and 
constantly  sent  to  report  on  anything  novel  or  curious,  and 
likely  to  afford  matter  for  an  interesting  article.  It  was  for 
such  a  purpose  that  I  received  an  order  from  one  of  the 
principal  newspapers  in  town  to  go  and  have  a  complimen- 
tary seance  with  an  American  clairvoyant  newly  arrived 
in  England,  Miss  Lottie  Fowler.  Until  I  received  my 
directions  I  had  never  heard  the  medium's  name,  and  I 
knew  very  little  of  clairvoyance.  She  was  lodging  in  Con- 
duit Street,  and  I  reached  her  house  one  morning  as  early 
as  ten  o'clock,  and  sent  in  a  card  with  the  name  of  tlie 
paper  only  written  on  it.  I  was  readily  admitted.  'Miss 
Fowler  was  naturally  anxious  to  be  noticed  by  the  press 
and  introduced  to  London  society.  I  found  her  a  stylish- 
looking,  well-dressed  woman  of  about  thirty,  with  a  pleas- 
ant, intelligent  face.  Those  of  my  readers  who  have  only 
met  her  since  sickness  and  misfortune  made  inroads  on  her 
appearance  may  smile  at  my  description,  but  I  repeat  that 
seventeen  years  ago  Lottie  Fowler  was  prosperous  and 
energetic-looking.  She  received  me  very  cordially,  and 
asked  me  into  a  little  back  parlor,  of  which,  as  it  was  sum- 
mer weather,  both  the  windows  and  doors  were  left  open. 
Here,  in  the  sunshine,  she  sat  down  and  took  my  hand  in 
hers,  and  began  chatting  of  what  she  wished  and  hoped  to 
do  in  London,  Suddenly  her  eyes  closed  and  her  head 
fell  back.  She  breathed  hard  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
sat  up,  still  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  began  to  talk  in  a 
high  key,  and  in  broken  English.  This  was  her  well-known 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  165 

control,  "Annie,"  without  doubt  one  of  the  best  clairvoy- 
ants living.  She  began  by  explaining  to  me  that  she  had 
been  a  German  girl  in  earth  life,  and  couldn't  speak  Eng- 
lish properly,  but  I  should  understand  her  better  when  I 
was  more  familiar  with  her.  She  then  commenced  with 
my  birth  by  the  sea,  described  my  father's  personality  and 
occupation,  spoke  of  my  mother,  my  brothers  and  sisters, 
my  illnesses,  my  marriage,  and  my  domestic  life.  Then 
she  said,  •'  Wait !  now  I'll  go  to  your  house,  and  tell  you 
what  I  see  there."  She  then  repeated  the  names  of  all  my 
children,  giving  a  sketch  of  the  character  of  each  one, 
down  to  the  "baby  with  the  flower  name,"  as  she  called 
my  little  Daisy.  After  she  had  really  exhausted  the  sub- 
ject of  my  past  and  present,  she  said,  "  You'll  say  I've 
read  all  this  out  of  your  mind,  so  now  I'll  tell  you  what  I 
see  in  the  future.  You'll  be  married  a  second  time." 
Now,  at  this  period  I  was  editing  a  fashionable  magazine, 
and  drew  a  large  number  of  literary  men  around  me.  I 
kept  open  house  on  Tuesday  evenings,  and  had  innumer- 
able friends,  and  I  may  (I  don't  say  I  had),  but  I  may 
have  sometimes  speculated  what  my  fate  might  be  in  the 
event  of  my  becoming  free.  The  seance  I  speak  of  took 
place  on  a  Wednesday  morning  ;  and  when  "Annie  "  told  me 
I  should  be  married  a  second  time,  my  thoughts  involun- 
tarily took  to  tliemselves  wings,  I  suppose,  for  she  imme- 
diately followed  up  her  assertion  by  saying,  "  No  !  not 
to  the  man  who  broke  the  tumbler  at  your  house  last 
night.  You  will  marry  another  soldier."  "  No,  thank- 
you,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "no  more  army  men  for  me.  I've  had 
enough  of  soldiers  to  last  me  a  lifetime."  "  Annie  "  looked 
very  grave.  "  You  ixnll  marry  another  soldier,"  she  reiter- 
ated ;  "  I  can  see  him  now,  walking  up  a  terrace.  He  is 
very  tall  and  big,  and  has  brown  hair  cut  quite  short,  but 
so  soft  and  shiny.  At  the  back  of  his  head  he  looks  as 
sleek  as  a  mole.  He  has  a  broad  face,  a  pleasant,  smiling 
face,  and  when  he  laughs  he  shows  very  white  teeth.  I  see 
him  knocking  at  your  door.  He  says,  '  Is  Mrs.  Ross- 
Church  at  home  ?  '  '  Yes,  sir.'  Then  he  goes  into  a  room 
full  of  books.  '  Florence,  my  wife  is  dead.  Will  you  be 
my  wife?'  And  you  say  'Yes.'"  "Annie"  spoke  so 
naturally,  and  I  was  so  astonished  at  her  knowledge  of 
my  affairs,  that  it  never  struck  me  till  I  returned  home 
that  she  had  called  me  by  my  name,  which  had  been  kept 


l66  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

carefully  from  her.  I  asked  her,  "  When  will  my  husband 
die?"  "I  don't  see  his  death  anywhere,"  she  answered. 
"  But  how  can  I  marry  again  unless  he  dies  ?  "  I  said.  "  I 
don't  know,  but  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  don't  see.  I  see  a 
house  all  in  confusion,  papers  are  thrown  about,  and  every- 
thing is  topsy-turvy,  and  two  people  are  going  different 
ways  ;  and,  oh,  there  is  so  much  trouble  and  so  many  tears  ! 
But  I  don't  see  any  death  anywhere." 

I  returned  home,  very  much  astonished  at  all  Miss 
Fowler  had  said  regarding  my  past  and  present,  but 
very  incredulous  with  respect  to  her  prophecies  for  the 
future.  Yet,  three  years  afterwards,  when  much  of 
what  she  told  me  had  come  to  pass,  I  was  travelling 
from  Charing  Cross  to  Fareham  with  Mr.  Grossmith, 
to  give  our  entertainment  of  "  Entre  Nous"  when  the 
train  stopped  as  usual  to  water  at  Chatham.  On  the 
platform  stood  Colonel  Lean,  in  uniform,  talking  to  some 
friends.  I  had  never  set  eyes  on  him  till  that  moment ; 
but  I  said  at  once  to  Mr.  Grossmith,  "Do  you  see  that 
officer  in  the  undress  uniform  ?  That  is  the  man  Lottie 
Fowler  told  me  I  should  marry."  Her  description  had 
been  so  exact  that  I  recognized  him  at  once.  Of  course,  I 
got  well  laughed  at,  and  was  ready  after  a  while  to  laugh 
at  myself.  Two  months  afterwards,  however,  I  was  engaged 
to  recite  at  the  Literary  Institute  at  Chatham,  where  I  had 
never  set  foot  in  my  life  before.  Colonel  Lean  came  to 
the  Recital,  and  introduced  himself  to  me.  He  became  a 
visitor  at  my  house  in  London  (which,  by  the  by,  had  been 
changed  for  one  in  a  terrace),  and  two  years  afterwards, 
in,  June  1879,  we  were  married.  I  have  so  far  overcome 
a  natural  scruple  to  make  my  private  affairs  public,  in  jus- 
tice to  Lottie  Fowler.  It  is  useless  narrating  anything  to 
do  with  the  supernatural  (although  I  have  been  taught 
that  this  is  a  wrong  term,  and  that  nothing  that  exists  is 
above  nature,  but  only  a  continuation  of  it),  unless  one  is 
prepared  to  prove  that  it  was  true.  Lottie  Fowler  did  not 
make  a  long  stay  in  England  on  that  occasion.  She 
returned  to  America  for  some  time,  and  I  was  Mrs.  Lean 
before  I  met  her  again.  The  second  visit  was  a  remarkable 
one.  I  had  been  to  another  medium,  who  had  made  me 
very  unhappy  by  some  prophecies  with  regard  to  my  hus- 
band's health  :  indeed,  she  had  said  he  would  not  live  a 
couple  of  years,  and  I  was  so  excited  about  it  that  my 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  167 

friend  Miss  Schonberg  advised  our  going  then  and  there  to 
see  Lottie  Fowler,  who  had  just  arrived  in  England,  and 
was  staying  in  Vernon  Place,  Bloomsbury ;  and  though  it 
was  late  at  night,  we  set  off  at  once.  The  answer  to  our 
request  to  see  Miss  Fowler  was  that  she  was  too  tired  to 
receive  any  more  visitors  that  day.  "  Do  ask  her  to  see 
me,"  I  urged.  "I  won't  detain  her  a  moment;  I  only 
want  to  ask  her  one  question."  Upon  this,  we  were 
admitted,  and  found  Lottie  nearly  asleep.  "  Miss  Fowler," 
I  began,  "  you  told  me  five  years  ago  that  I  should  be 
married  a  second  time.  Well,  I  am  married,  and  now  they 
tell  me  I  shall  loose  my  husband."  And  then  I  told  her 
how  ill  he  was,  and  what  the  doctors  said,  and  what  the 
medium  said.  "You  told  me  the  truth  before,"  I  con- 
tinued; "  tell  it  me  now.  Will  he  die?"  Lottie  took  a 
locket  containing  his  hair  in  her  hand  for  a  minute,  and 
then  replied  confidently,  "  They  know  nothing  about  it. 
He  will  not  die — that  is  not  yet — not  for  a  long  while." 
"  But  whefi  ?"  1  said,  despairingly.  "  Leave  that  to  God, 
child,"  she  answered,  "  and  be  happy  now."  And  in  effect 
Colonel  Lean  recovered  from  his  illness,  and  became 
strong  and  hearty  again.  But  whence  did  Miss  Fowler 
gain  the  confidence  to  assert  that  a  man  whom  she  had 
never  seen,  nor  even  heard  of,  should  recover  from  a  disease 
which  the  doctors  pronounced  to  be  mortal  ?  From  that 
time  Lottie  and  I  became  fast  friends,  and  continue  so  to 
this  day.  It  is  a  remarkable  thing  that  she  would  never 
take  a  sixpence  from  me  in  payment  for  her  services, 
though  I  have  sat  with  her  scores  of  times,  nor  would  she 
accept  a  present,  and  that  when  she  has  been  sorely  in 
need  of  funds.  She  said  she  had  been  told  she  should 
never  prosper  if  she  touched  my  money.  She  has  one  of 
the  most  grateful  and  affectionate  and  generous  natures 
possible,  and  has  half-starved  herself  for  the  sake  of  others 
who  lived  upon  her.  I  have  seen  her  under  sickness,  and 
poverty,  and  trouble,  and  I  think  she  is  one  of  the  kindest- 
hearted  and  best  women  living,  and  I  am  glad  of  even  this 
slight  opportunity  to  bear  testimony  to  her  disposition. 
At  one  time  she  had  a  large  and  fashionable  clientele  of 
sitters,  who  used  to  pay  her  handsomely  for  a  seance^  but 
of  late  years  her  clients  have  fallen  off,  and  her  fortunes 
have  proportionately  decreased.  She  has  now  returned  to 
the  Southern  States  of  America,  and  says  she  has  seen  the 


l68  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

last  of  England.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  I  consider  her  a 
great  personal  loss  as  a  referee  in  all  business  matters  as 
well  as  a  prophet  for  the  future.  She  also,  like  Bessie 
Fitzgerald,  is  a  great  medical  diagnoser.  She  was  largely- 
consulted  by  physicians  about  the  Court  at  the  time  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales'  dangerous  illness,  and  predicted  his 
recovery  from  the  commencement.  It  was  through  her 
mediumship  that  the  body  of  the  late  Lord  Lindesay  of 
Balcarres,  which  was  stolen  from  the  family  vault,  was 
eventually  recovered  ;  and  the  present  Lord  Lindesay  gave 
her  a  beautiful  little  watch,  enamelled  and  set  in  diamonds, 
in  commemoration  of  the  event.  She  predicted  the  riot 
that  took  place  in  London  some  years  ago,  and  the  Tay 
Bridge  disaster  ;  but  who  is  so  silly  as  to  believe  the  pro- 
phecies of  media  now-a-days?  There  has  hardly  been  an 
event  in  my  life,  since  I  liave  known  Lottie  Fowler,  that 
she  has  not  prepared  me  for  beforehand,  but  the  majority 
of  them  are  too  insignificant  to  interest  the  reader.  One, 
however,  the  saddest  I  have  ever  been  called  upon  to 
encounter,  was  wonderfully  foretold.  In  February,  1886, 
Lottie  (or  rather,  '^  Annie  ")  said  to  me,  "  There  is  a  great 
trouble  in  store  for  you,  Florris  "  (she  always  called  me 
"  Florris  ") ;  "  you  are  passing  under  black  clouds,  and 
there  is  a  coffin  hanging  over  you.  It  will  leave  your 
house."  This  made  me  very  uneasy.  No  one  lived  in  my 
house  but  my  husband  and  myself.  I  asked,  "  Is  it  my  own 
coffin  ?  "  "  No  1  "  "  Is  it  my  husband's  ?  "  "  No ;  it  is  that 
of  a  much  younger  person." 

I  questioned  her  very  closely,  but  she  would  not  tell  me 
any  more,  and  I  tried  to  dismiss  the  idea  from  my  mind. 
Still  it  would  constantly  recur,  for  I  knew,  from  experience, 
how  true  her  predictions  were.  At  last  I  felt  as  if  I  could 
bear  the  suspense  no  longer,  and  I  went  to  her  and  said, 
"  You  must  tell  me  that  the  coffin  you  spoke  of  is  not  for 
one  of  my  children,  or  the  uncertainty  will  drive  me  mad." 
"Annie"  thought  a  minute,  and  then  said  slowly,  "No; 
it  is  not  for  one  of  your  children."  "  Then  I  can  bear 
anything  else,"  I  replied.  The  time  went  on,  and  in  April  an 
uncle  of  mine  died.  I  rushed  again  to  Lottie  Fowler.  "  Is 
this  the  death  you  prophesied  ?  "  I  asked  her.  "  No," 
she  replied  ;  "  the  coffin  must  leave  your  house.  But  this 
death  will  be  followed  by  another  in  the  family,"  which  it 
was  within  the  week.     The  following  February  my  next- 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  169 

door  neighbors  lost  their  only  son.  I  had  known  the  boy 
for  years,  and  I  was  very  sorry  for  them.  As  I  was  watch- 
ing the  funeral  preparations  from  my  bedroom  window, 
I  saw  the  coffin  carried  out  of  the  hall  door,  which  adjoined 
mine  with  only  a  railing  between.  Knowing  that  many 
prophetical  media  see  \\\t  future  in  a  series  of  pictures,  it 
struck  me  that  Lottie  must  have  seen  this  coffin  leaving, 
and  mistaken  the  house  for  mine.  I  went  to  her  again. 
This  proves  how  the  prediction  had  weighed  all  tins  time 
upon  my  mind.  "  Has  not  the  death  you  spoke  of  taken 
place  flow  ?  "  I  asked  her.  "  Has  not  the  coffin  left  my 
house  ?  "  "  No,"  she  answered  ;  "  it  will  be  a  relative,  one 
of  the  family.  It  is  much  nearer  now  than  it  was."  I  felt 
uncomfortable,  but  I  would  not  allow  it  to  make  me  un- 
happy. "  Annie  "  had  said  it  was  not  one  of  my  own  chil- 
dren, and  so  long  as  they  were  spared  I  felt  strong  enough 
for  anything. 

In  the  July  following  my  eldest  daughter  came  to 
me  in  much  distress.  She  had  heard  of  the  death  of  a 
friend,  one  who  had  been  associated  with  her  in  her 
professional  life,  and  the  news  had  shocked  her  greatly. 
She  had  always  been  opposed  to  Spiritualism.  She  didn't 
see  the  good  of  it,  and  thought  I  believed  in  it  a  great  deal 
more  than  was  necessary.  I  had  often  asked  her  to  accom- 
pany me  to  seanceSy  or  to  see  trance  media,  and  she  had 
refused.  She  used  to  say  she  had  no  one  on  tlie  other  side 
she  cared  to  speak  to.  But  when  her  young  friend  died, 
she  begged  me  to  take  her  to  a  medium  to  hear  some  news 
of  him,  and  we  went  together  to  Lottie  Fowler.  "  Annie  " 
did  not  wait  for  any  prompting,  but  opened  the  ball  at  once. 
"  You've  come  here  to  ask  me  how  you  can  see  your  friend 
who  has  just  passed  over,"  she  said.  "  Well,  he's  all  right. 
He's  in  this  room  now,  and  he  says  you  will  see  him  very 
soon."  ^'  To  which  medium  shall  I  go  ?  "  said  my  daughter. 
"  Don't  go  to  any  medium.  Wait  a  little  while,  and  you 
will  see  him  with  your  own  eyes."  My  daughter  was  a 
physical  medium  herself,  though  I  had  prevented  her  sit- 
ting for  fear  it  should  injure  her  health  ;  and  I  believed, 
with  her,  that  "Annie  "meant  that  her  friend  would  man- 
ifest through  her  own  power.  She  turned  to  me  and  said, 
"  Oh,  mother,  I  shall  be  awfully  frightened  if  he  appears  to 
me  at  night;"  and  "  Annie"  answered,  "  No,  you  won't 
be  frightened  when  you  see  him.  You  will  be  very  pleased. 


I70  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

Your  meeting  will  be  a  source  of  great  pleasure  on  both 
sides."  My  daughter  had  just  signed  a  lucrative  engagement, 
and  was  about  to  start  on  a  provincial  tour.  Her  next 
request  was,  "  Tell  me  what  you  see  for  me  in  the  future." 
"  Annie  "  replied,  "  I  cannot  see  it  clearly.  Another  day 
I  may  be  able  to  tell  you  more,  but  to-day  it  is  all  dim. 
Every  time  I  try  to  see  it  a  wall  seems  to  rise  behind  your 
head  and  shut  it  out."  Then  she  turned  to  me  and  said, 
"  Florris,  that  coffin  is  very  near  you  now.  It  hangs  right 
over  your  head  !  "  I  answered  carelessly,  "  I  wish  it  would 
come  and  have  done  with  it.  It  is  eighteen  months  now, 
Annie,  since  you  uttered  that  dismal  prophecy  ! "  Little 
did  I  really  believe  that  it  was  to  be  so  quickly  and  so  ter- 
ribly fulfilled.  Three  weeks  after  that  seance,  my  beloved 
child  (who  was  staying  with  me)  was  carried  out  of  my 
house  in  her  coffin  to  Kensal  Green.  I  was  so  stunned  by 
the  blow,  that  it  was  not  for  some  time  after  that  I  re- 
membered "  Annie's  "  prediction.  "When  I  asked  her  why 
she  had  tortured  me  with  the  suspense  of  coming  evil  for 
eighteen  months,  she  said  she  had  been  told  to  do  so  by 
my  guardian  spirits,  or  my  brain  would  have  been  injured 
by  the  suddenness  of  the  shock.  When  I  asked  why  she 
had  denied  it  would  be  one  of  my  children,  she  still  main- 
tained that  she  had  obeyed  a  higher  order,  because  to  tell 
the  truth  so  long  beforehand  would  have  half-killed  me  as  in- 
deed it  would.  "  Annie  "  said  she  had  no  idea,  even  during 
that  last  interview,  that  the  death  she  predicted  was  that 
of  the  girl  before  her.  She  saw  her  future  was  misty,  and 
that  the  coffin  was  over  my  head,  but  she  did  not  connect 
the  two  facts  together.  In  like  manner  I  have  heard  almost 
every  event  of  my  future  through  Lottie  Fowler's  lips,  and 
she  has  never  yet  proved  to  be  wrong,  except  in  one  in- 
stance of  time.  She  predicted  an  event  for  a  certain  year 
and  it  did  not  take  place  till  afterwards  ;  and  it  has  made 
"  Annie  "  so  wary,  that  she  steadfastly  refuses  now  to  give 
any  dates.  I  always  warn  inquirers  not  to  place  faith  in  any 
given  dates.  The  spirits  have  told  me  they  have  no  time 
in  the  spheres,  but  judge  of  it  simply  as  the  reflection  of  the 
future  appears  nearer,  or  further,  from  the  sitter's  face. 
Thus,  something  that  will  happen  years  hence  appears 
cloudy  and  far  off,  whilst  the  events  of  next  week  or  next 
month  seem  bright  and  distinct,  and  quite  near.  This 
is  a  method  of  judging  which  can  only  be  gained  by  prac- 
tice, and  must  at  all  times  be  uncertain  and  misleading. 


THERE    IS  NO  DEATH.  171 

I  have  often  acted  as  amanuensis  for  Lottie  Fowler,  for 
letters  are  constantly  arriving  for  her  from  every  part  of  the 
world  which  can  only  be  answered  under  trance,  and  she 
has  asked  me  to  take  down  the  replies  as  "  Annie  "  dictated 
them.  I  have  answered  by  this  means  the  most  searching 
questions  from  over  the  seas  relating  to  health  and  money 
and  lost  articles  whilst  Lottie  was  fast  asleep  and  "  Annie  " 
dictated  the  letters,  and  have  received  many  answers 
thanking  me  for  acting  go-between,  and  saying  how  won- 
derfully correct  and  valuable  the  information  "  Annie  "  had 
sent  them  had  proved  to  be.  Of  course,  it  would  be  im- 
possible, in  this  paper,  to  tell  of  the  constant  intercourse 
I  have  had  with  Lottie  Fowler  during  the  last  ten  or  twelve 
years,  and  the  manner  in  which  she  has  mapped  out  my 
future  for  me,  preventing  my  cherishing  false  hopes  that 
would  never  be  realized,  making  bad  bargains  that  would 
prove  monetary  losses,  and  believing  in  apparent  friend- 
ship that  was  only  a  cloak  for  selfishness  and  treachery. 
I  have  learned  many  bitter  lessons  from  her  lips.  I  have 
also  made  a  good  deal  of  money  through  her  means.  She 
has  told  me  what  will  happen  to  me  between  this  time  and 
the  time  of  my  death,  and  I  feel  prepared  for  the  evil  and 
content  with  the  good.  Lottie  Fowler  had  very  bad  health 
for  some  time  before  she  left  England,  and  it  had  become 
quite  necessary  that  she  should  go  ;  but  I  think  if  the 
British  public  had  known  what  a  wonderful  woman  was  in 
their  midst,  they  would  have  made  it  better  worth  her 
while  to  stay  amongst  them. 


/' 


OF  Tl-  . 


172  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  MEDIUMSHIP  OF  WILLIAM  FLETCHER. 

It  may  be  remembered  in  the  "  Story  of  John  Powles  "that 
when,  as  a  perfect  stranger  to  Mr.  Fletcher,  I  walked  one 
evening  into  the  Steinway  Hall,  I  heard  him  describe  the 
circumstances  of  my  old  friend's  death  in  a  very  startling 
manner.  It  made  such  an  impression  on  me  that  I  became 
anxious  to  hear  what  more  Mr.  Fletcher  might  have  to  say 
to  me  in  private,  and  for  that  purpose  I  wrote  and  made 
an  appointment  with  him  at  his  private  residence  in  Gordon 
Square.  I  did  not  conceal  my  name,  and  I  knew  my  name 
must  be  familiar  to  him;  for  although  he  had  only  just 
arrived  from  America,  I  am  better  known  as  an  author  in 
that  country  perhaps  than  in  this.  But  I  had  no  intention 
of  gauging  his  powers  by  what  he  told  me  of  my  exterior 
life  ;  and  by  what  followed,  his  guide  "  Winona  "  evidently 
guessed  my  ideas  upon  the  subject.  After  the  seance  I 
wrote  thus  concerning  it  to  the  Banner  of  Light,  a  New 
York  Spiritualistic  paper  : — 

"  I  had  seen  many  clairvoyants  before,  both  in  public 
and  private,  and  had  witnessed  wonderful  feats  of  skill  on 
their  part  in  naming  and  describing  concealed  objects,  and 
reading  print  or  writing  when  held  far  beyond  their  reach 
of  sight ;  but  I  knew  the  trick  of  all  that.  If  Mr.  Fletcher 
is  going  to  treat  me  to  any  mental  legerdemain,  I  thought, 
as  I  took  my  way  to  Gordon  Square,  I  shall  have  wasted 
both  my  time  and  trouble  upon  him  ;  and,  I  confess,  as  I 
approached  the  house,  that  I  felt  doubtful  whether  I  might 
not  be  deceived  against  my  senses  by  the  clever  lecturer, 
whose  eloquence  had  charmed  me  into  desiring  a  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  him.  Even  the  private  life  of 
a  professional  person  soon  becomes  public  property  in 
London  ;  and  had  Mr.  Fletcher  wished    to  find  out  my 

faults  and  faiUngs,  he  had  but  to  apply  to  ,  say,  my 

dearest  friend,  or  the  one  upon  whom  I  had  bestowed  most 
benefits^  to  learn  the  worst  aspect  of  the  wotst  side  of  my 


THERE  IS  iVO   DEATH.  173 

character.  But  the  neat  little  page-boy  answered  my  sum- 
mons so  promptly  that  I  had  no  time  to  think  of  turning 
back  again;  and  I  was  ushered  through  a  carpeted  hall, 
and  up  a  staircase  into  a  double  drawing-room,  strewn  with 
evidence  that  my  clairvoyant  friend  possessed  not  only 
artistic  taste,  but  the  means  to  indulge  it.  The  back  room 
into  which  I  was  shown  was  hung  with  paintings  and  fitted 
with  a  luxurious  causeuse,  covered  with  art  needlework, 
and  drawn  against  the  open  window,  through  which  miglit 
be  seen  some  fine  old  trees  in  the  garden  below,  and  Mr. 
Fletcher's  dogs  enjoying  themselves  beneath  their  shade. 
Nothing  could  be  further  removed  from  one's  ideas  of  a 
haunt  of  mystery  or  magic,  or  the  abode  of  a  man  who  was 
forced  to  descend  to  trickery  for  a  livelihood.  In  a  few 
minutes  Mr.  Fletcher  entered  the  room  and  saluted  me 
with  the  air  of  a  gentleman.  We  did  not  proceed  to  busi- 
ness, however,  until  he  had  taken  me  round  his  rooms,  and 
shown  me  his  favorite  pictures,  including  a  portrait  of  Sara 
Bernhardt,  etched  by  herself,  in  the  character  of  Mrs. 
Clarkson  in  L'Etrangere.  After  which  we  returned  to 
the  back  drawing-room,  and  without  darkening  the  win- 
dows or  adopting  any  precautions,  we  took  our  seats  upon 
the  causeuse  facing  each  other,  whilst  Mr.  Fletcher  laid 
his  left  hand  lightly  upon  mine.  In  the  course  of  a  minute 
I  observed  several  convulsive  shivers  pass  through  his 
frame,  his  eyes  closed,  and  his  head  sunk  back  upon  the 
cushions,  apparently  in  sleep.  I  sat  perfectly  still  and 
silent  with  my  hand  in  his.  Presently  he  reopened  his 
eyes  quite  naturally,  and  silting  upright,  began  to  speak  to 
me  in  a  very  soft,  thin,  feminine  voice.  He  (or  rather  his 
guide  "  Winuna ")  began  by  saying  that  she  would  not 
waste  my  time  on  facts  that  she  might  have  gathered  from 
the  world,  but  would  confine  herself  to  speaking  of  my 
inner  life.  Thereupon,  with  the  most  astonishing  astute- 
ness, she  told  me  of  my  thoughts  and  feelings,  reading  them 
off  like  a  book.  She  repeated  to  me  words  and  actions 
that  had  been  said  and  done  in  privacy  hundred  of  miles 
away.  She  detailed  the  characters  of  my  acquaintance, 
showing  who  were  true  and  who  were  false,  giving  me 
their  names  and  places  of  residence.  She  told  me  the 
motives  I  had  had  for  certain  actions,  and  what  was  more 
strange,  revealed  truths  concerning  myself  which  I  had  not 
recognized  until  they  were  presented  to  me  through  the 


174  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

medium  of  a  perfect  stranger.  Every  question  I  put  to  her 
was  accurately  answered,  and  I  was  repeatedly  invited  to 
draw  further  revelations  from  her.  The  fact  being  that  I 
was  struck  almost  dumb  by  what  I  had  heard,  and  rendered 
incapable  of  doing  anything  but  marvel  at  the  wonderful 
gift  that  enabled  a  man,  not  only  to  read  each  thought  that 
passed  through  my  brain,  but  to  see,  as  in  a  mirror,  scenes 
that  were  being  enacted  miles  away  with  the  actors  con- 
cerned in  them  and  the  motives  that  animated  them, 
"  Winona"  read  the  future  for  me  as  well  as  the  past,  and 
the  first  distinct  prophecy  she  uttered  has  already  most 
unexpectedly  come  to  pass.  When  I  announced  that  I  was 
satisfied,  the  clairvoyant  laid  his  head  back  again  upon  the 
cushions,  the  same  convulsive  shudders  passed  through 
his  frame,  and  in  another  minute  he  was  smiling  in  my 
face,  and  hoping  I  had  a  good  seance.''' 

This  is  part  of  the  letter  I  wrote  concerning  Mr.  Fletcher 
to  the  Banner  of  Light.  But  a  description  of  words,  how- 
ever strongly  put,  can  never  carry  the  same  weight  as  the 
words  themselves.  So  anxious  am  I  to  make  this  statement 
as  trustworthy  as  possible,  however,  that  I  will  now  go 
further,  and  give  the  exact  words  as  "  Winona  "  spoke  them 
to  me  on  that  occasion,  and  as  I  took  them  down  from  her 
lips.  Some  parts  I  must  omit,  not  for  my  own  sake,  but 
because  of  the  treachery  they  justly  ascribed  to  persons 
still  living  in  this  world.  But  enough  will,  I  trust,  remain 
to  prove  how  intimately  the  spirit  must  have  penetrated 
to  my  inner  life.  This  is,  then,  the  greater  part  of  what 
*'  Winona  "  said  to  me  on  the  27th  of  June,  1879  : 

"  You  are  a  Child  of  Destiny,  who  never  was  a  child. 
Your  life  is  fuller  of  tragedies  than  any  life  I  ever  read  yet. 
I  will  not  tell  you  of  the  past/a^/x,  because  they  are  known 
to  the  world,  and  I  might  have  heard  them  from  others. 
But  I  will  speak  of  yourself.  I  have  to  leave  the  earth- 
world  when  I  come  in  contact  with  you,  and  enter  a  planet- 
ary sphere  in  which  you  dwell  (and  ever  must  dwell) 
alone.  It  is  as  if  you  were  in  a  room  shut  off  from  the  rest 
of  mankind.  You  are  one  of  the  world's  magnets.  You 
have  nothing  really  in  common  with  the  rest.  You  draw 
people  to  you,  and  live  upon  their  life  ;  and  when  they 
have  no  more  to  give,  nor  you  to  demand,  the  liking  fades 
on  both  sides.  It  must  be  so,  because  the  spirit  requires 
food    the    same   as   the   body ;  and  when   the    store   is 


I'HERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  175 

exhausted,  the  affection  is  starved  out,  and  the  persons 
pass  out  of  your  life.  .  You  have  often  wondered  to  your- 
self why  an  acquaintance  who  seemed  necessary  to  you  to- 
day you  can  live  perfectly  well  without  to-morrow.  This 
is  the  reason.  More  than  that,  if  you  continue  to  cling  to 
those  whose  spiritual  system  you  have  exhausted,  they 
would  poison  you,  instead  of  nourishing  you.  You  may 
not  like  it,  but  those  you  value  most  you  should  oftenest 
part  with.  Separation  will  not  decrease  your  influence 
over  them  ;  it  will  increase  it.  Constant  intercourse  may 
be  fatal  to  your  dearest  affections.  You  draw  so  much  on 
others,  you  empty  them,  and  they  have  nothing  more  to 
give  you.  You  have  often  wondered,  too,  why,  after  you 
have  lived  in  a  place  a  little  while,  you  become  sad,  weary, 
and  ill — not  physically  ill,  but  mentally  so — and  you  feel 
as  if  you  must  leave  it,  and  go  to  another  place.  When 
you  settle  in  this  fresh  place,  you  think  at  first  that  it  is 
the  very  place  where  you  will  be  content  to  live  and  die  ; 
but  after  a  little  while  the  same  weariness  and  faintness 
comes  back  again,  and  you  think  you  cannot  breathe  till 
you  leave  it,  as  you  did  the  other.  This  is  not  fancy.  It  is 
because  your  nature  has  exhausted  all  it  can  draw  from  its 
surroundings,  and  change  becomes  a  necessity  to  life.  You 
will  never  be  able  to  live  long  in  any  place  without  change, 
and  let  me  warn  you  never  to  settle  yourself  down  any- 
where with  the  idea  of  living  there  entirely.  Were  you 
forced  to  do  so,  you  would  soon  die.  You  would  be  starved 
to  death  spiritually.  All  people  are  not  born  under  a  fate, 
but  you  were,  and  you  can  do  very  little  to  change  it. 
England  is  the  country  of  your  fate.  You  will  never  pros- 
per in  health,  mind,  or  money  in  a  foreign  country.  It  is 
good  to  go  abroad  for  change,  but  never  try  to  live  there. 
You  are  thinking  of  going  abroad  now,  but  you  will  not 
remain  there  nearly  so  long  as  you  anticipate.  Something 
will  arise  to  make  you  alter  your  plans — not  a  real  trouble 
— but  an  uneasiness.  The  plan  you  think  of  will  not 
answer."  (This  prediction  was  fulfilled  to  the  letter.) 
"  This  year  completes  an  era  in  your  professional  career — 
not  of  ill-luck,  so  much  as  of  stagnation.  Your  work  has 
been  rather  duller  of  late  years.  The  Christmas  of  1879 
will  bring  you  brighter  fortune.  Some  one  who  has  appeared 
to  drop  you  will  come  forward  again,  and  take  up  your 
cause,  and  bring  you  in  much  money."     (This  also  came 


176  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

to  pass.)  "  You  have  not  nearly  reached  the  zenith  of 
your  success.  It  is  yet  to  come.  It  is  only  beginning. 
You  will  have  another  child,  certainly  otie,  but  I  am  not 
sure  if  it  will  live  in  this  world.  I  do  not  see  its  earth-life, 
but  I  see  you  in  that  condition. 


"  Your  nervous  system  was  for  many  years  strung  up  to 
its  highest  tension — now  it  is  relaxed,  and  your  physical 
powers  are  at  their  lowest  ebb.  You  could  not  bear  a 
child  in  your  present  condition.  You  must  become  much 
lighter-hearted,  more  contented  and  at  ease  before  that 
comes  to  pass.  You  must  have  ceased  to  wish  for  a  child, 
or  even  to  expect  it.  You  have  never  had  a  heart  really 
at  ease  yet.     All  your  happiness  has  been  feverish. 


**  I  see  your  evil  genius.  She  is  out  of  your  life  at  pre- 
sent, but  she  crossed  your  path  last  year,  and  caused  you 
much  heart-burning,  and  not  without  reason.  It  seems  to 
me  that  some  sudden  shock  or  accident  put  an  end  to  the 
acquaintance  ;  but  she  will  cross  your  path  again,  and 
cause  you  more  misery,  perhaps,  than  anything  else  has 
don  She  is  not  young,  but  stout,  and  not  handsome,  as 
it  seems  to  me.  She  is  addicted  to  drinking.  I  see  her 
rolling  about  now  under  the  influence  of  liquor.     She  has 

been  married  more  than  once.     I  see  the  name 

written  in  the  air.  She  would  go  any  lengths  to  take  that 
you  value  from  you,  even  to  compassing  your  death.  She 
is  madly  in  love  with  what  is  yours.  She  would  do  any- 
thing to  compass  her  ends — not  only  immoral  things,  but 
filth — filth.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  this.  When- 
ever she  crosses  your  path,  in  public  or  private,  flee  from 
her  as  from  a  pestilence."  (This  information  was  correct 
in  every  detail.  The  name  was  given  at  full  length.  I 
repeat  it  as  a  specimen  of  the  succinctness  of  intelligence 
given  through  trance  mediumship.)  "  1883  will  be  a  most 
unfortunate  year  for  you.  You  will  have  a  severe  illness, 
your  friends  will  not  know  if  you  are  going  to  live  or  die, 
and  during  this  illness  you  will  endure  great  mental  agony, 
caused  through  a  woman,  one  of  whose  names  begins  with 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  I77 

,     You  will  meet  her  some  time  before,  and  she  will 

profess  to  be  your  dearest  friend.  I  see  her  bending  over 
you,  and  telling  you  she  is  your  best  friend,  and  you  are 
disposed  to  believe  it.  She  is  as  tall  as  you  are,  but  does 
not  look  so  tall  from  a  habit  she  has  of  carrying  herself. 
She  is  not  handsome,  strictly  speaking,  but  dark  and  very 
fascinating.  She  has  a  trick  of  keeping  her  eyes  down 
when  she  speaks.  She  is  possibly  French,  or  of  French 
extraction,  but  speaks  English.  She  will  get  a  hold  upon 
's  mind  that  will  nearly  separate  you."  (At  this  junc- 
ture I  asked,  "  How  can  I  prevent  it  ?  ")  "  If  I  told  you, 
that  if  you  went  by  the  3  o'clock  train  from  Gower  Street, 
you  would  be  smashed,  you  would  not  take  that  train. 
When  you  meet  a  woman  answering  this  description,  stop 
and  ask  yourself  whether  she  is  the  one  I  have  warned 
you  against,  before  you  admit  her  across  the  threshold  of 
your  house. 


" 's  character  is  positive  for  good,  and  negative  for 

evil.  If  what  is  even  for  his  good  were  urged  upon  him,  he 
would  refuse  to  comply ;  but  present  evil  to  him  as  a 
possible  good,  and  he  will  stop  to  consider  whether  it  is  not 
so.  If  he  is  to  be  guided  aright,  it  must  be  by  making  him 
believe  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  go  wrong. 
Elevate  his  nature  by  elevating  his  standard  of  right. 
Make  it  impossible  for  him  to  lower  himself,  by  convincing 
him  that  he  would  be  lowered.  He  is  very  conceited. 
Admiration  is  the  breath  of  his  life.  He  is  always  thinking 
what  people  will  say  of  him  or  his  actions.  He  is  very  weak 
under  temptation,  especially  the  temptation  of  flattery.  He 
is  much  too  fond  of  women.  You  have  a  difficult  task 
before  you,  and  you  have  done  much  harm  already  through 
your  own  fault.  He  believes  too  little  in  the  evil  of  others 
— much  too  little.  If  he  were  unfaithful  to  those  who  trust 
him,  he  would  be  quite  surprised  to  find  he  had  broken 
their  hearts.  Your  work  is  but  beginning.  Hitherto  all 
has  been  excitement,  and  there  has  been  but  little  danger. 
Now  comes  monotony  and  the  fear  of  satiety.  Your  fault 
through  life  has  been  in  not  asserting  the  positive  side  of 
your  character.  You  were  born  to  rule,  and  you  have  sat 
down  a  slave.     Either  through  indolence  or  despair  of  suc- 

12 


X78  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

cess,  you  have  presented  a  negative  side  to  the  insults 
offered  you,  and  in  the  end  you  have  been  beaten.  You 
make  a  great  mistake  in  letting  your  female  friends  read 
all  your  joys  and  sorrows.  Men  would  sympathize  and 
pity.  Women  will  only  take  advantage  of  them.  Assert 
your  dignity  as  mistress  in  your  own  house,  and  don't  let 
those  visitors  invite  themselves  who  do  not  come  for  you. 
You  are,  as  it  were,  the  open  door  for  more  than  one  false 
friend.  I  warn  you  especially  against  two  unmarried  women 
— at  least,  if  they  are  married,  I  don't  see  their  husbands 

anywhere.  They  are  both  too  fond  of ;  one  very  much 

too  fond  of  him,  and  you  laugh  at  it,  and  give  your  leave 
for  caresses  and  endearments,  which  should  never  be  per- 
mitted. If  I  were  to  tell  them  that  they  visit  at  your  house 

for ,  and  not  for  you,  they  would  be  very  indignant. 

They  give  you  presents,  and  really  like  you ;  but is 

the  attraction,  and  with  one  of  them  it  only  needs  time, 
place  and  opportunity  to  cause  the  ruin  of and  your- 
self. She  has  an  impediment  in  walking,  I  need  say  no 
more.  She  wants  to  become  still  more  familiar,  and  live 
under  the  same  roof  with  you.  You  must  prevent  it.  The 
other  is  doing  more  harm  to  herself  than  to  anyone  else. 
She  is  silly  and  romantic,  and  must  dream  of  some  one. 

It  is  a  pity  it  should  be  encouraged  by  familiarity.     

has  no  feeling  for  them  beyond  pity  and  friendship,  but  it 
is  not  necessary  he  should  love  a  woman  to  make  her 
dangerous  to  him.     As  far  as  I  can  see  your  lives  extend, 

will  love  you,  and  you  will  retain  your  influence  over 

him  if  you  choose  to  do  so.  But  it  is  in  your  own  hands 
what  you  make  of  him.  You  must  not  judge  his  nature  by 
your  own.  You  are  shutting  yourself  up  too  much.  You 
should  be  surrounded  by  a  chcle  of  men,  so  that  you  might 

not  draw  influence  from alone.     You  should  go  out 

more,  and  associate  with  clever  men,  and  hear  what  they 
have  to  say  to  you.     You  must  not  keep  so  entirely  with 

It  is  bad  for  both  of  you.      You  are  making  too 

great  a  demand  upon  his  spiritual  powers,  and  you  will 
exhaust  them  too  soon.  A  woman  cannot  draw  spiritual 
life  from  women  only.     She  must  take  it  from  men.     There 

is  another  acquaintance  I  must  warn  you  against ;  a 

widow,  fair  hair,  light  eyes,  not  clever,  but  cunning.  She 
has  but  one  purpose  in  visiting  you.  She  would  like  to 
stand  in  your  shoes.  She  would  not  hesitate  to  usurp  your 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  1 79 

rights.  Be  civil  to  her  if  you  will,  but  do  not  encourage 
her  visits.  It  were  best  if  she  passed  out  of  your  lives 
altogether.     She  can  never  bring  you  any  good  luck.    She 

may  be  the  cause  of  much  annoyance  yet.     should 

have  work,  active  and  constant,  or  his  health  will  fail, 
living  in  idleness,  spiritually  and  bodily.  You  tell  him  too 
often  that  you  love  him.  Let  him  feel  there  is  always  a 
higher  height  to  gain,  a  lower  depth  to  fall  to,  in  your 
esteem.  He  is  not  the  only  man  in  the  world.  Why  should 
you  deceive  him  by  saying  so  ?  You  are  much  to  blame." 
(Considering  that  Mr.  Fletcher  had  never  seen,  or,  as  far 
as  I  knew,  heard  of  tlie  persons  he  mentioned  in  this  tirade, 
it  becomes  a  matter  of  speculation  where  or  from  whom  he 
gathered  this  keen  insight  to  their  character  and  person- 
alities, every  word  of  which  I  can  vouch  for  as  being  strictly 
true.) 

'♦Many  spirits  are  round  you.     Some  wish  to  speak. 

A  grand  and  noble  spirit  stands  behind 

you,  with  his  hands  spread  in  blessing  over  your  head.  He 
is  your  father.  He  sends  this  message  :  '  My  dear  child, 
there  were  so  many  influences  antagonistic  to  my  own  in 
your  late  married  life,  that  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  get 
near  you.  Now  they  are  removed.  The  present  conditions 
are  much  more  favorable  to  me,  and  I  hope  to  be  with 
you  often,  and  to  help  you  through  the  life  tliat  lies  before 
you.  There  is  the  face  of  a  glorified  spirit,  just  above  your 
head,  and  I  see  the  name  'Powles.'  This  spirit  is  nearer 
you,  and  more  attached  to  you  than  any  other  in  Spirit 
Land.  He  comes  only  to  yau,  and  one  other  creature 
through  you — your  second  child.  He  says  you  will  know 
him  by  the  token,  the  song  you  sung  to  him  upon  his 
death-bed.  His  love  for  you  is  the  best  and  purest,  and 
he  is  always  by  you,  though  lower  influences  sometimes 
forbid  his  manifesting  himself.  Your  child  comes  floating 
down,  and  joins  hands  with  him.  She  is  a  very  pure  and 
beautiful  spirit.'.  She  intimates  that  her  name  on  earth  was 
the  same  as  yours,  but  she  is  called  by  another  name  in 
the  spheres — a  name  that  has  something  to  do  with  flowers. 
She  brings  me  a  bunch  of  pure  white  lilies,  tinged  with 
blue,  with  blue  petals,  tied  with  a  piece  of  blue  ribbon, 
and  she  intimates  tome  by  gesture  that  her  spirit-name  has 
something  to  do  with  them.  I  think  I  must  go  now, 
tut  I  hope  you  will  come  and  sit  with  me  again.     I  shall 


l8o  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

be  able  to  tell  you  more  next  time.    My  name  is  '  Winona,' 

and  when  you  ask  for  me  I  will  come.    Good-bye " 

This  was  the  end  of  my  first  seance  with  Mr.  Fletcher, 
and  I  think  even  sceptics  will  allow  that  it  was  sufficiently 
startling  for  the  first  interview  with  an  entire  stranger. 
The  following  year  I  wrote  again  to  the  Batmer  of  Light 
concerning  Mr.  Fletcher,  but  will  only  give  an  extract  from 
my  letter.  "  I  told  you  in  my  letter  of  last  year  that  I 
had  held  a  seance  with  Mr.  Fletcher  of  so  private  a  nature 
that  it  was  impossible  to  make  it  public.  During  that 
interview  *  Winona '  made  several  startling  prophecies  con- 
cerning the  future,  which,  it  may  interest  your  readers  to 
know,  have  already  been  fulfilled.  Wishing  to  procure 
some  further  proofs  of  Mr.  Fletcher's  power  before  I  wrote 
this  letter  to  you,  I  prepared  a  different  sort  of  test  for  him 
last  week.  From  a  drawer  full  of  old  letters  I  selected, 
with  my  eyes  shut,  four  folded  sheets  of  paper,  which  I 
slipped  into  four  blank  envelopes,  ready  prepared  for  them 
— still  without  looking — and  closed  them  in  the  usual 
manner  with  the  adhesive  gum,  after  which  I  sealed  them 
with  sealing  wax.  I  carried  these  envelopes  to  Mr.  Fletcher, 
and  requested  "Winona"  to  tell  me  the  characters  of  the 
persons  by  whom  their  contents  had  been  written.  She 
placed  them  consecutively  to  the  medium's  forehead,  and 
as  she  returned  them  to  me,  one  by  one,  I  wrote  her  com- 
ments on  each  on  the  side  of  the  cover.  On  breaking  the 
seals,  the  character  of  each  writer  was  found  to  be  most 
accurately  defined,  although  the  letters  had  all  been  written 
years  before — (a  fact  which  "  Winona  "  had  immediately 
discovered).  She  also  told  me  which  of  my  correspondents 
were  dead,  and  which  living.  Here,  you  will  observe, 
there  could  have  been  no  reaction  of  my  own  brain  upon 
that  of  the  sensitive,  as  I  was  perfectly  ignorant,  until  I 
reopened  the  envelopes,  by  whom  the  letters  had  been  sent 
to  me.  Two  months  ago  I  was  invited  to  join  in  a  specu- 
lation, of  the  advisability  of  which  I  felt  uncertain.  I  went 
therefore  to  Mr.  Fletcher,  and  asked  for  an  interview  with 
"  Winona,"  intending  to  consult  her  in  the  matter.  But 
before  I  had  time  to  mention  the  subject,  she  broached  it 
to  me,  and  went  on  to  speak  of  the  speculation  itself,  of 
the  people  concerned  in  it,  and  the  money  it  was  expected 
to  produce  ;  and,  finally,  she  explained  to  me  how  it  would 
collapse,  with  the  means  that  would  bring  it  to  an   end, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  i8i 

putting  her  decided  veto  on  my  having  anything  to  do  with 
it.  I  followed  "  Winona's  "  advice,  and  have  been  thankful 
since  that  I  did  so,  as  everything  has  turned  out  just  as 
she  predicted." 


I  think  those  people  who  desire  to  gain  the  utmost  good 
they  can  out  of  clairvoyance  should  be  more  ready  to 
h'sten  and  learn,  and  less  to  cavil  and  to  question.  Many 
who  have  heard  me  relate  the  results  of  my  experience 
have  rushed  off  pell-mell  to  the  same  medium,  perhaps, 
and  came  away  woefully  disappointed.  Were  they  to 
review  the  interview  they  would  probably  find  they  had 
done  all  the  talking,  and  supplied  all  the  information,  leav- 
ing the  clairvoyant  no  work  to  do  whatever.  To  such  I 
always  say,  whether  their  aim  is  to  obtain  advice  in  their 
business,  or  news  of  a  lost  friend.  Be  perfectly  passive, 
until  the  medium  has  said  all  he  or  she  may  have  to  say. 
Give  them  time  to  become  en  rapport  with  you,  and  quiet- 
ude, that  he  may  commune  with  the  spirits  you  bring  with 
you  ;  for  it  is  they,  and  not  his  controls,  that  furnish  him 
with  the  history  of  your  life,  or  point  out  the  dangers  that 
are  threatening.  When  he  has  finished  speaking,  he  will 
probably  ask  if  you  have  any  questions  to  put  to  him,  and 
then  is  your  turn  for  talking,  and  for  gaining  any  particular 
information  you  may  wish  to  acquire.  If  these  directions 
are  carried  out,  you  are  likely  to  have  a  much  more  satis- 
factory seance  than  otherwise. 


l82  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

PRIVATE    MEDIA. 

People  who  wish  to  argue  against  Spiritualism  are  quite 
sure,  as  a  rule,  that  media  will  descend  to  any  trickery 
and  cheating  for  the  sake  of  gain.  If  you  reply,  as  in  my 
own  case,  that  the  seances  have  been  given  as  a  free-will 
offering,  they  say  that  they  expected  introductions  or 
popularity  or  advertisement  in  exchange.  But  what  can 
be  adduced  against  the  medium  who  lends  his  or  her 
powers  to  a  person  whom  he  has  never  seen,  and  probably 
never  will  see,  and  for  no  reason,  excepting  that  his  con- 
trols urge  him  to  the  deed  ?  Such  a  man  is  Mr.  George 
Plummer  of  Massachusetts,  America.  In  December,  1887, 
when  my  mind  was  very  unsettled,  my  friend  Miss  Schon- 
berg  advised  me  to  write  to  this  medium  and  ask  his  ad- 
vice. She  told  me  I  must  not  expect  an  immediate  reply, 
as  Mr.  Plummer  kept  a  box  into  which  he  threw  all  the 
letters  he  received  from  strangers  on  spiritualistic  subjects, 
and  when  he  felt  impressed  to  do  so,  he  went  and  took 
out  one,  haphazard,  and  wrote  the  answer  that  was  dic- 
tated to  him.  All  I  had  to  do  was  to  enclose  an  addressed 
envelope,  not  a  stafnped  one,  in  my  letter,  to  convey  the 
answer  back  again.  Accordingly,  I  prepared  a  diplomatic 
epistle  to  this  effect.  "  Dear  sir, — Hearing  that  you  are 
good  enough  to  sit  for  strangers,  I  shall  be  much  obliged 
if  you  will  let  me  know  what  you  see  for  me. — Yours  truly, 
F.  Lane."  It  will  be  seen  that  I  transposed  the  letters  oif 
my  name  "  Lean."  I  addressed  the  return  envelope  in 
the  same  manner  to  the  house  in  Regent's  Park,  which  I 
then  occupied,  and  I  wrote  it  all  in  a  feigned  hand  to  con- 
ceal my  identity  as  much  as  possible.  The  time  went  on 
and  I  heard  nothing  from  Mr.  Plummer.  I  was  touring 
in  the  provinces  for  the  whole  of  1888,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  year  I  came  back  to  London  and  settled  down  in  a 
new  house  in  a  different  quarter  of  the  town.  By  this  time 
I  had  almost  forgetten  Mr.  Plummer  and  my  letter  to  him, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  183 

and  when  in  December^  1889,  two  years  after  I  had  sent  it, 
my  own  envelope  in  my  own  handwriting,  forwarded  by 
the  postal  authorities  from  Regent's  Park,  was  brought  to 
me,  I  did  not  at  first  recognize  it.  I  kept  twisting  it  about, 
and  thinking  how  like  it  was  to  my  own  writing,  when  the 
truth  suddenly  flashed  on  me.  I  opened  it  and  read  as 
follows  : 

"  Georgetown,  November  28th,  1889. 

"Mrs.  Lane, — Dear  Madam, — Please  pardon  me  for  seeming 
neglect  in  answering  your  request.  At  the  time  of  receiving  your  letter 
I  could  not  write,  and  it  got  mislaid.  Coming  across  it  now,  even  at 
the  eleventh  hour,  I  place  myself  in  condition  to  answer.  I  see  a  lady 
with  dark  blue  eyes  before  me,  of  a  very  nervous  life — warm-hearted — 
impulsive — tropical  in  her  nature.  A  woman  of  intense  feeling — a 
woman  whose  life  has  been  one  of  constant  disappointment.  To-day 
the  current  of  life  flows  on  smoothly  but  monotonous.  I  sense  from 
the  sphere  of  this  lady,  a  weariness  of  life — should  think  she  felt  like 
Alexander,  because  there  are  no  more  worlds  for  her  to  conquer.  She 
is  her  own  worst  enemy.  Naturally  generous,  she  radiates  her  refined 
magnetic  sphere  to  others,  and  does  not  get  back  that  which  she  can 
utilize.  I  see  a  bright -complexioned  gentleman  in  earth  life — brave, 
generous,  and  kind — but  does  not  comprehend  your  interior  life.  And 
yet  thinks  the  world  of  you  to-day.  I  feel  from  you  talent  of  a  marked 
order.  And  yet  life  is  a  disappointment.  Not  but  what  you  have 
been  successful  in  a  refined,  worldly  sense,  but  your  spiritual  nature 
has  been  repressed.  The  society  you  move  in  is  one  of  intellectual  cul- 
ture ;  that  is  not  of  the  soul.  And  it  is  soul  food  that  you  are  hungering 
for  to-day.  You  are  an  inspired  woman.  Thought  seems  to  you,  all 
prepared,  so  to  speak.  But  it  does  not  seem  to  free  the  tiny  little  mes- 
sengers of  your  soul  life.  Somehow  I  don't  feel  that  confidence  in  my- 
self in  writing  to  you.  The  best  kind  of  a  reading  is  usually  obtained 
in  reading  to  a  person  direct.  But  it  I  don't  meet  your  case  we  will 
call  it  a  failure  and  let  it  go.  The  year  of  1890  is  going  to  be  more 
favorable  to  you  than  for  the  last  ten  years.  I  think  in  some  way  you 
are  to  meet  with  more  reciprocity  of  soul.  As  the  divining  rod  points 
to  the  stream  of  water  in  the  earth,  so  I  find  my  intuitive  eye  takes 
cognizance  of  your  interior  life.  You  will  in  a  degree  catch  my  mean- 
ing through  this,  and  it  will  come  clearer,  more  through  your  intuition 
than  through  your  intellect.  I  should  say  to  you,  follow  your  instincts 
and  intuitions  always  through  life.  If  this  throws  any  light  over  your 
path  I  am  glad.— I  remain,  most  respectfully  yours, 

George  Plummer." 

Now  there  are  two  noticeable  things  in  this  letter.  First, 
Mr.  Pluramer's  estimate  of  my  interior  life  almost  coincides 
with  Mr.  Fletcher's  given  in  1879,  ten  years  before.  Next, 
although  he  read  it  through  the  medium  of  a  letter  written 


i84  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

in  1887,  he  draws  a  picture  of  my  position  and  surround- 
ings in  1889.  Both  these  things  appeared  to  me  very 
curious  as  coming  from  a  stranger  across  the  Atlantic,  and 
I  answered  his  letter  at  once,  still  preserving  my  slight 
incognita,  and  telling  him  that  as  he  had  read  so  much  of 
my  life  from  my  handwriting  of  so  long  ago,  I  wished  he 
would  try  to  read  more  from  words  which  went  fresh  from 
me  to  him.  I  also  enclosed  a  piece  of  the  handwriting  of 
a  friend.  Mr.  Plummer  did  not  keep  me  waiting  this  time. 
His  next  letter  was  dated  February  8th,  1890. 

"  Dear  Madam, — I  received  yours  of  January  3rd,  and  would  have 
answered  before,  but  the  spirit  did  not  move.  I  have  been  tied  to  a 
sickroom  going  on  three  months,  with  its  cares  and  anxieties.  Not 
the  best  condition  for  writing.  The  best  condition  to  reflect  your  life, 
to  give  your  soul  strength,  is  to  be  at  rest  and  have  all  earth  conditions 
nullified.  But  that  cannot  be  to-day.  So  I  will  try  to  penetrate  the 
mystery  of  your  life  as  best  I  can,  and  radiate  to  you  at  least  some 
strength.  The  relation  of  soul  is  the  difficulty  of  your  life,  and  you 
are  so  perfectly  inspirational  that  it  makes  the  condition  worse.  Grand 
types  of  Manhood  and  Womanhood  come  to  you  from  the  higher  life, 
and  your  spirit  and  soul  catch  the  reflection,  and  are  disappointed  be- 
cause they  cannot  live  that  life.  But  you  are  getting  a  development 
out  of  all  this  friction.  Now  if  you  would  come  in  contact  with  that 
nature  that  could  radiate  to  you  just  what  you  could  give  to  it,  you 
would  be  happy.  Love  is  absolute,  you  well  know.  Often  in  the 
exchange  of  thought  we  give  each  other  strength.  And  then  every 
letter  we  write,  every  time  we  shake  hands,  we  give  some  of  our  own  per- 
sonality out.  You  are  too  sensitive  to  the  spheres  of  people.  You 
have  such  a  strong  personality  of  life  that  the  power  that  inspires  you 
could  not  make  the  perfect  junction  until  you  get  so,  you  had  rather  die 
than  live.  That  was  a  condition  of  negation.  Now  you  have  been 
running  on  a  dead  level  of  nothingness  for  two  years  and  a  half." 
(This  was  exactly  the  time  since  my  daughter  had  been  taken  from 
me).  ^^  I  mean  it  seems  so  to  you.  Such  a  sameness  of  things.  I  get 
from  the  writing  of  the  gentleman.  A  good  sphere — warmhearted — 
true  to  his  understanding  of  things.  He  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  a  half- 
way house  to  you.  That  is,  you  roam  in  the  sea  of  Ideality,  down 
deep,  you  know.  And  he  rather  holds  on  to  matter-of-fact — sort  of 
ballast  for  you.  You  need  it.  For  you  are,  in  fact,  ripe  for  the  other 
life,  though  it  is  not  time  to  go  yet.  Although  a  writer,  yet  you  are  a 
disappointed  one.  No  mortal  but  yourself  knows  this.  You  have 
winged  your  way  in  flights,  grand  and  lofty,  and  cannot /<f«  it,  is  what 
is  the  matter.  Now,  in  time  you  will,  more  perfectly  than  to-day,  by 
the  touch  of  your  pen,  portray  your  soul  and  its  flights.  Then  I  see 
you  happy.  This  gentleman  is  an  auxiliary  power,  whether  the  power 
in  full  of  your  life  I  do  not  to-day  get.  You  are  emphatically  a  woman 
of  Destiny,  and  should  follow  yom  impressions,  for  through  that  in- 
tuitive law  you  will  be  saved.     I  mean  by  '  saved,'  leap,  as  it  were, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  185 

across  difficulties  instead  of  going  round.  For  your  soul  is  more  posi- 
tive and  awake  to  its  necessities  to-day  than  ever  before  in  your  life, 
particularly  in  the  last  six  months.  Body  marriages  are  good  under 
the  physical  law — bring  certain  unfoldments.  But  when  mortal  man 
and  woman  reach  a  certain  condition  of  development,  they  become 
dissatisfied,  and  yearn  for  the  full  fruition  of  love.  And  there  is  no 
limitation  of  this  law.  Women  usually  bow  to  the  heart-love  law, 
that  sometimes  brings  great  joy  and  misery.  The  time  is  ripe  for 
rulers.  There  will  be  put  into  the  field  men,  and  more  specifically 
women,  who  have  exemplified  love  divine.  They  will  teach  the  law  so 
plainly  that  they  who  run  can  read.  And  it  can  only  be  taught  by 
those  who  have  embodied  it.  Some  years  ago,  in  this  country,  there 
was  a  stir-up.  It  did  its  work  in  fermentation.  The  next  must  be 
humanization.  The  material  world  must  come  under  the  spiritual. 
Women  will  come  to  the  front  as  inspired  powers.  This  is  what  comes 
to  me  to  write  to  you  to-day.  If  it  brings  strength,  or  one  ray  of  sun- 
shine to  you,  I  am  glad.  — I  remain,  most  respectfully  yours, 

George  Pi^ummer." 

Mr.  Plummer  is  not  occupying  a  high  position  in  the 
world,  nor  is  he  a  rich  man.  He  gains  no  popularity  by 
his  letters — he  hears  no  applause — he  reaps  no  personal 
benefit,  nor  will  he  take  any  money.  It  would  be  difficult, 
with  any  degree  of  reason,  to  charge  him  with  cheating 
the  public  for  the  sake  of  emptying  their  pockets.  I  fail 
to  see,  therefore,  how  he  can  obtain  his  insight  to  one's 
interior  life  by  mortal  means,  nor,  unless  compelled  by  a 
power  superior  to  his  own,  why  he  should  take  the  trouble 
to  obtain  it. 

Another  medium,  whose  health  paid  the  sacrifice  de- 
manded of  her  for  the  exhibition  of  a  power  over  which, 
at  one  time,  she  had  no  control,  and  which  never  brought 
her  in  anything  but  the  thanks  of  her  friends,  is  Mrs. 
Keningale  Cook  (Mabel  Collins),  whom  I  have  mentioned 
in  the  "  Story  of  my  Spirit  Child."  There  was  a  photo- 
grapher in  London,  mamed  Hudson,  who  liad  been  very 
successful  in  developing  spirit  photographs.  He  would 
prepare  to  take  an  ordinary  photograph,  and  on  develop- 
ing the  plate,  one  or  more  spirit  forms  would  be  found 
standing  by  the  sitter,  in  which  forms  were  recognized  the 
faces  of  deceased  friends.  Of  course,  the  generality  of 
people  said  that  the  plates  were  prepared  beforehand  with 
vague  misty  figures,  and  the  imagination  of  the  sitter  did 
the  rest.  I  had  been  for  some  time  anxious  to  test  Mr. 
Hudson's  powers  for  myself,  and  one  morning  very  early, 
between  nine  and  ten  o'clock,  I  asked  Mrs.  Cook,   as  a 


1 86  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

medium,  to  accompany  me  to  his  studio.  He  was  not  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  either  of  us,  and  we  went  so  early 
that  we  found  him  rather  unwilling  to  set  to  work.  Indeed, 
at  first  he  declined.  We  disturbed  him  at  breakfast  and 
in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and  he  told  us  his  studio  had  been 
freshly  painted,  and  it  was  quite  impossible  to  use  it  until 
dry.  But  we  pressed  him  to  take  our  photographs  until 
he  consented,  and  we  ascended  to  the  studio.  It  was  cer- 
tainly very  difficult  to  avoid  painting  ourselves,  and  the 
screen  placed  behind  was  perfectly  wet.  We  had  not 
mentioned  a  word  to  Mr.  Hudson  about  spirit  photographs, 
and  the  first  plate  he  took  out  and  held  up  to  the  light,  we 
saw  him  draw  his  coat  sleeve  across.  When  we  asked 
him  what  he  was  doing,  he  turned  to  us  and  said,  "  Are 
you  ladies  Spiritualists?"  When  we  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  he  continued,  "  I  rubbed  out  the  plate  because 
I  thought  there  was  something  on  it,  and  most  sitters 
would  object.  I  often  have  to  destroy  three  or  four  nega- 
tives before  I  get  a  clear  picture."  We  begged  him  not  to 
rub  out  any  more  as  we  were  curious  to  see  the  results. 
He,  consequently,  developed  three  photographs  of  us, 
sitting  side  by  side.  The  first  was  too  indistinct  to  be  of 
any  use.  It  represented  us,  with  a  third  form,  merely  a 
patch  of  white,  lying  on  the  ground,  whilst  a  mass  of  hair 
was  over  my  knee.  "  Florence  "  afterwards  informed  me 
that  this  was  an  attempt  to  depict  herself.  The  second 
picture  showed  Mrs.  Cook  and  myself  as  before,  with 
*'  Charlie  "  standing  behind  me.  I  have  spoken  of  "  Char- 
lie "  (Stephen  Charles  Bernard  Abbott)  in  "Curious 
Coincidences,"  and  how  much  he  was  attached  to  me  and 
mine.  In  the  photograph  he  is  represented  in  his  cowl 
and  monk's  frock — with  ropes  round  his  waist,  and  his 
face  looking  down.  In  the  third  picture,  an  old  lady  in  a 
net  cap  and  white  shawl  was  standing  with  her  two  hands 
on  Mrs.  Cook's  shoulders.  This  was  her  grandmother, 
and  the  profile  was  so  distinctly  delineated,  that  her  father, 
Mr.  Mortimer  Collins,  recognized  it  at  once  as  the  portrait 
of  his  mother.  The  old  lady  had  been  a  member  of  the 
Plymouth  Brethren  sect,  and  wore  the  identical  shawl  of 
white  silk  with  an  embroidered  border  which  she  used  to 
wear  during  her  last  years  on  earth.  I  have  seen  many 
other  spirit  photographs  taken  by  Mr.  Hudson,  but  I  ad- 
here to  my  resolution  to  speak  only  of  that  which  I  have 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  187 

proved  by  the  exercise  of  my  own  senses.  I  have  the  two 
photographs  I  mention  to  this  day,  and  have  often  wished 
that  Mr.  Hudson's  removal  from  town  had  not  prevented 
my  sitting  again  to  him  in  order  to  procure  the  Ukenesses 
of  other  friends. 

Miss  Caroline  Pawley  is  a  lady  who  advertises  her  will- 
ingness to  obtain  messages  for  others  from  the  spirit  world, 
but  is  forbidden  by  her  guides  to  take  presents  or  money. 
I  thought  at  first  this  must  be  a  ^'  ruse."  "  Surely,"  I  said 
to  a  friend  who  knew  Miss  Pawley,  "  I  ought  to  take 
books,  or  flowers,  or  some  little  offering  in  my  hand."  '*  If 
you  do  she  will  return  them,"  was  the  reply.  "  All  that  is 
necessary  is  to  write  and  make  an  appointment,  as  her 
time  is  very  much  taken  up."  Accordingly  I  did  write, 
and  Miss  Pawley  kindly  named  an  early  date  for  my  visit. 
It  was  but  a  few  months  after  I  had  lost  my  beloved 
daughter,  and  I  longed  for  news  of  her.  I  arrived  at  Miss 
Pawley's  residence,  a  neat  little  house  in  the  suburbs,  and 
was  received  by  my  hostess,  a  sweet,  placid-faced  woman, 
who  looked  the  embodiment  of  peace  and  calm  happiness. 
After  we  had  exchanged  greetings  she  said  to  me,  "  You 
have  lost  a  daughter."  "  I  lost  one  about  twenty  years 
ago — a  baby  of  ten  days  old,"  I  replied.  "  I  don't  mean 
her,"  said  Miss  Pawley,  "  I  mean  a  young  woman.  I  will 
tell  you  how  I  came  to  know  of  it.  I  took  out  my  memo- 
randa yesterday  and  was  looking  it  through  to  see  what 
engagements  I  had  made  for  to-day,  and  I  read  the  names 
aloud  to  myself.  As  I  came  to  the  entry,  '  Mrs.  Lean,  3 
o'clock,'  I  heard  a  low  voice  say  behind  me,  '  That  is  my 
dear,  dear  mother  ! '  and  when  I  turned  round,  I  saw 
standing  at  my  elbow  a  young  woman  about  the  middle 
height,  with  blue  eyes  and  very  long  brown  hair,  and  she 
told  me  that  it  is  she  whom  you  are  grieving  for  at  present." 
I  made  no  answer  to  this  speech,  for  my  wound  was  too 
fresh  to  permit  me  to  talk  of  her  ;  and  Miss  Pawley  pro- 
ceeded. "  Come  !  "  she  said  cheerfully,  "  let  us  get  paper 
and  pencil  and  see  what  the  dear  child  has  to  say  to  us." 
She  did  not  go  under  trance,  but  wrote  rapidly  for  a  few 
moments  and  then  handed  me  a  letter  written  in  the  follow- 
ing manner.  I  repeat  (what  I  have  said  before)  that  I  do 
not  test  the  genuineness  of  such  a  manifestation  by  the  act 
itself.  Anyone  might  have  written  the  letter,  but  no  one 
but  myself  could  recognize  the  familiar  expressions  and 


188  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

handwriting,  nor  detect  the  apparent  inconsistencies  that 
made  it  so  convincing.  It  was  written  in  two  different 
hands  on  alternate  hnes,  the  first  line  being  written  by 
*'  Eva,"  and  the  next  by  "  Florence,"  and  so  on.  Now, 
my  earthly  children  from  their  earliest  days  have  never 
called  me  anything  but  "  Mother,"  whilst  "  Florence,"  who 
left  me  before  she  could  speak,  constantly  calls  me 
"  Mamma."  This  fact  alone  could  never  have  been  known 
to  Miss  Pawley.  Added  to  which  the  portion  written  by 
my  eldest  daughter  was  in  her  own  clear  decided  hand, 
whilst  "  Florence's  "  contribution  was  in  rather  a  childish, 
or  "  young  ladylike  "  scribble. 

The  lines  ran  thus.     The  italics  are  Florence's  : — 

"  My  own  beloved  mother. 

My  dear,  dear,  dearest  Afamma. 

You  must  not  grieve  so  terribly  for  me. 

And  knowing  all  we  have  taught  you,  you  should  not 

grieve. 
Believe  me,  I  am  not  unhappy. 
Of  coiirse  not,  and  she  zvill  be  very  happy  soon. 
But  I  suffer  pain  in  seeing  you  suffer. 
Dear  Mamma,  do  try  to  see  that  it  is  for  the  best. 
Florence  is  right.     It  is  best  !  dear  Mother. 
And  we  shall  all  meet  so  soon,  you  know. 
God  bless  you  for  all  your  love  for  me. 
Good-bye,  dear,  dearest  Mamrna. 
Your  own  girl. 
Your  loving  little  Florence.^'' 

I  cannot  comment  on  this  letter.  I  only  make  it  public 
in  a  cause  that  is  sacred  to  me. 

To  instance  another  case  of  mediumship  which  is  exer- 
cised for  neither  remuneration  nor  applause.  I  am 
obliged  in  this  example  to  withhold  the  name,  because  to 
betray  their  identity  would  be  to  ill  requite  a  favor  which 
was  courteously  accorded  me.     I  had  heard  of  a  family  of 

tlie  name  of  D who  held  private  sittings  once  a  week, 

at  which  the  mother  and  brothers  and  sisters  gone  before 
materialized  and  joined  the  circle  ;  and  having  expressed 
my  desire,  through  a  mutual  acquaintance,   to  assist  at 

their  seances,  Mr.    D kindly  sent  me  an  invitation  to 

one.      I  found  he  was  a  high-class  tradesman,  living  in  a 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  189 

good  house  In  the  suburbs,  and  that  strangers  were  very 
seldom  (if  ever)  admitted  to  their  circle.  Mr.  D ex- 
plained to  me  before  the  seance  commenced,  that  they  re- 
garded Spiritualism  as  a  most  sacred  thing,  that  they  sat 
only  to  have  communication  with  their  own  relations,  his 
wife  and  children,  and  that  his  wife  never  manifested  except 
when  they  were  alone.  His  earth  family  consisted  of  a 
young  married  daughter  and  her  husband,  and  four  or  five 
children  of  different  ages.  He  had  lost,  I  think  he  told  me, 
a  grown-up  son,  and  two  little  ones.  William  Haxby,  the 
medium,  whom  I  wrote  of  in  my  chapter  "  On  Sceptics," 
and  who  had  passed  over  since  then,  had  been  intimate 
with  their  family,  and  often  came  back  to  them.  These 
explanations  over,  the  seance  began.  The  back  and  front 
parlors  were  divided  by  lace  curtains  only.  In  the  back, 
where  the  young  married  daughter  took  up  her  position  on 
a  sofa,  were  a  piano  and  an  American  organ.  In  the  front 
parlor,  which  was  lighted  by  an  oil  lamp,  we  sat  about  on 
chairs  and  sofas,  but  without  any  holding  of  hands.  In  a 
very  short  time  the  lace  curtains  parted  and  a  young  man's 
face  appeared.  This  was  the  grown-up  brother.  "  Hullo  ! 
Tom,"  they  all  exclaimed,  and  the  younger  ones  went  up 
and  kissed  him.  He  spoke  a  while  to  his  father,  telling 
what  they  proposed  to  do  that  evening,  but  saying  his 
mother  would  Qot  be  able  to  materialize.  As  he  was 
speaking,  a  little  boy  stood  by  his  side.  "  Here's  Harry,  " 
cried  the  children,  and  they  brought  their  spirit  brother 
out  into  the  room  between  them.  He  seemed  to  be  about 
five  years  old.  His  father  told  him  to  come  and  speak  to 
me,  and  he  obeyed,  just  like  a  little  human  child,  and 
stood  before  me  with  his  hand  resting  on  my  knee.  Then 
a  little  girl  joined  the  party,  and  the  two  children  walked 
about  the  room,  talking  to  everybody  in  turn.  As  we  were 
occupied  with  them,  we  heard  the  notes  of  the  American 

organ.     '*  Here's   Haxby,"  said  Mr.   D .     "  Now  we 

shall  have  a  treat."  (I  must  say  here  that  Mr.  Haxby 
was  an  accomplished  organist  on  earth.)  As  he  heard  his 
name,  he,  too,  came  to  the  curtains,  and  showed  his  face 
with  its  ungainly  features,  and  intimated  that  he  and 
"  Tom  "  would  play  a  duet.  Accordingly  the  two  instru- 
ment pealed  forth  together,  and  the  spirits  really  played 
gloriously — a  third  influence  joining  in  with  some  stringed 
instrument.     This  siance  was  so  much  less  wonderful  than 


igo  THEJ^  IS  NO  DEATH. 

many  I  have  written  of,  that  I  should  not  have  included  a 
description  of  it,  except  to  prove  that  all  media  do  not  ply 
their  profession  in  order  to  prey  upon  their  fellow-creatures. 

The  D family  are  only  anxious  to  avoid  observation. 

There  could  be  no  fun  or  benefit  in  deceiving  each  other, 
and  yet  they  devote  one  evening  in  each  week  to  holding 
communion  with  those  they  loved  whilst  on  earth  and  feel 
are  only  hidden  from  them  for  a  little  while,  and  by  a 
very  flimsy  veil.  Their  siances  truly  carry  out  the  great 
poet's  belief, 

*'  Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 
Enter  at  the  open  door  j 
The  beloved,  the  true-hearted, 
Come  to  visit  me  once  more. 

With  a  slow  and  noiseless  footstep 

Comes  that  messenger  divine. 
Takes  the  vacant  chair  beside  me. 

Lays  her  gentle  hand  in  mine. 

Uttered  not,  yet,  comprehended. 

Is  the  spirit's  voiceless  prayer. 
Soft  rebukes,  in  blessings   ended, 

Breathing  from  her  lips  of  air." 

In  the  house  of  the  lady  I  have  mentioned  in  "  The 
Story  of  the  Monk,"  Mrs.  Uniacke  of  Bruges,  I  have  wit- 
nessed marvellous  phenomena.  They  were  not  pleasant 
manifestations,  very  far  from  it,  but  there  was  no  doubt 
that  they  were  genuine.  Whether  they  proceeded  from 
the  agency  of  Mrs.  Uniacke,  my  sister  Blanche,  or  a  young 
lady  called  Miss  Robinson,  who  sat  with  them,  or  from  the 
power  of  all  three  combined,  I  cannot  say,  but  they  had 
experienced  them  on  several  occasions  before  I  joined 
them,  and  were  eager  that  I  should  be  a  witness  of  them. 
We  sat  in  Mrs.  Uniacke's  house,  in  a  back  drawing-room, 
containing  a  piano  and  several  book-cases,  full  of  books — 
some  of  them  very  heavy.  We  sat  round  a  table  in  com- 
plete darkness,  only  we  four  women,  with  locked  doors 
and  bolted  windows.  Accustomed  as  I  was  to  all  sorts  of 
manifestations  and  mediumship,  I  was  really  frightened  by 
what  occurred.  The  table  was  most  violent  in  its  move- 
ments, our  chairs  were  dragged  from  under  us,  and  heavy 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  19 1 

articles  were  thrown  about  the  room.  The  more  Mrs. 
Uniacke  expostulated  and  Miss  Robinson  laughed,  the 
worse  the  tumult  became.  The  books  were  taken  from  the 
shelves  and  hurled  at  our  heads,  several  of  the  blows  seri- 
ously hurting  us  ;  the  keys  of  the  piano  at  the  further  end 
of  the  room  were  thumped  and  crashed  upon,  as  if  they 
would  be  broken  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all  Miss  Robinson 
fell  prone  upon  the  floor,  and  commenced  talking  in 
Flemish,  a  language  of  which  she  had  no  knowledge.  My 
sister  understands  it,  and  held  a  conversation  with  the 
girl ;  and  she  told  us  afterwards  that  Miss  Robinson  had 
announced  herself  by  the  name  of  a  Fleming  lately  de- 
ceased in  the  town,  and  detailed  many  events  of  his  life, 
and  messages  which  he  wished  to  be  delivered  to  his 
family — all  of  which  were  conveyed  in  good  and  intelligible 
Flemish.  When  the  young  lady  had  recovered  she  re- 
sumed her  place  at  the  table,  as  my  sister  was  anxious  I 
should  see  another  table,  which  they  called  "  Made- 
moiselle "  dance,  whilst  unseen  hands  thumped  the  piano. 
The  manifestation  not  occurring,  however,  they  thought  it 
must  be  my  presence,  and  ordered  me  away  from  the  table. 
I  went  and  stood  up  close  against  the  folding  doors  that  led 
into  the  front  room,  keeping  my  hand,  with  a  purpose,  on 
the  handle.  The  noise  and  confusion  palpably  increased 
when  the  three  ladies  were  left  alone.  "  Mademoiselle," 
who  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  commenced  to  dance 
about,  and  the  notes  of  the  piano  crashed  forcibly.  There 
was  something  strange  to  me  about  the  manifestation  of 
the  piano.  It  sounded  as  if  it  were  played  with  feet  in- 
stead of  hands.  When  the  tumult  was  at  its  height,  I  sud- 
denly, and  without  warning,  threw  open  the  folding  door 
and  let  the  light  in  upon  the  scene,  and  I  saw  the  mtisic- 
stool  mounted  on  the  keyboard  and  hammering  the  notes 
down.  As  the  light  was  admitted,  both  "  Mademoiselle  " 
and  the  music-stool  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor,  and  the 
stance  was  over.  The  ladies  were  seated  at  the  table, 
and  the  floor  and  articles  of  furniture  were  strewn  with  the 
books  which  had  been  thrown  down — the  bookshelves 
being  nearly  emptied — and  pots  of  flowers.  I  was  never  at 
such  a  pandemonium  before  or  after. 

The  late  Sir  Percy  Shelley  and  his  wife  Lady  Shelley, 
having  no  children  of  their  own,  adopted  a  little  girl,  who, 
when  about  four  or  five  years,  was  seriously  burned  about 


192  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH, 

the  chest  and  shoulders,  and  confined  for  some  months  to 
her  bed.  The  child's  cot  stood  in  Lady  Shelley's  bedroom, 
and  when  her  adopted  mother  was  about  to  say  her 
prayers,  she  was  accustomed  to  give  the  little  girl  a  pencil 
and  piece  of  paper  to  keep  her  quiet.  One  day  the  child 
asked  for  pen  and  ink  instead  of  a  pencil,  and  on  being 
refused  began  to  cry,  and  said,  "  The  7nan  said  she  must 
have  pen  and  ink."  As  it  was  particularly  enjoined  that  she 
must  not  cry  for  fear  of  reopening  her  wounds.  Lady 
Shelley  provided  her  with  the  desired  articles,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  her  devotions.  When  she  rose  from  them,  she 
saw  to  her  surprise  that  the  child  had  drawn  an  outline  of 
a  group  of  figures  in  the  Flaxman  style,  representing 
mourners  kneeling  round  a  couch  with  a  sick  man  laid 
upon  it.  She  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  the  pic- 
ture, but  she  was  struck  with  amazement  at  the  execution 
of  it,  as  was  everybody  who  saw  it.  From  that  day  she 
gave  the  little  girl  a  sheet  of  card-board  each  morning, 
with  pen  and  ink,  and  obtained  a  different  design,  the 
child  always  talking  glibly  of  "  the  man  ''  who  helped  her 
to  draw.  This  went  on  until  the  drawings  numbered 
thirty  or  forty,  when  a  ''  glossary  of  symbols  "'  was  written 
out  by  this  baby,  who  could  neither  write  nor  spell,  which 
explained  the  whole  matter.  It  was  then  discovered  that 
the  series  of  drawings  represented  the  life  of  the  soul  on 
leaving  the  body,  until  it  was  lost  "  in  the  Infinity  of  God  " 
— a  likely  subject  to  be  chosen,  or  understood,  by  a  child 
of  five.  I  heard  this  story  from  Lady  Shelley's  lips,  and  I 
have  seen  (and  well  examined)  the  original  designs.  They 
were  at  one  time  to  be  published  by  subscription,  but  I 
believe  it  never  came  to  pass.  I  have  also  seen  the  girl 
who  drew  them,  most  undoubtedly  under  control.  She 
was  then  a  young  married  woman  and  completely  ignorant 
of  anything  relating  to  Spiritualism.  I  asked  her  if  she 
remembered  the  circumstances  under  which  she  drew  the 
outlines,  and  she  laughed  and  said  no.  She  knew  she  had 
drawn  them,  but  she  had  no  idea  how.  All  she  could  tell 
me  was  that  she  had  never  done  anything  wonderful  since, 
and  she  had  no  interest  in  Spiritualism  whatever. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  193 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

VARIOUS    MEDIA. 

A  VERY  Strong  and  remarkable  clairvoyant  is  Mr.  Towns, 
of  Portobello  Road.  As  a  business  adviser  or  foreteller 
of  the  Future,  I  don't  think  he  is  excelled.  The  inquirer 
after  prophecy  will  not  find  a  grand  mansion  to  receive 
him  in  Portobello  Road.  On  the  contrary,  this  soothsayer 
keeps  a  small  shop  in  the  oil  trade,  and  is  himself  only  an 
honest,  and  occasionally  rather  rough  spoken,  tradesman. 
He  will  see  clients  privately  on  any  day  when  he  is  at 
liome,  though  it  is  better  to  make  an  appointment,  but  he 
holds  a  circle  on  his  premises  each  Tuesday  evening,  to 
which  everybody  is  admitted,  and  where  the  contribution 
is  anything  you  may  be  disposed  to  give,  from  coppers  to 
gold.  These  meetings,  which  are  very  well  attended,  are 
always  opened  by  Mr.  Towns  with  prayer,  after  which  a 
hymn  is  sung,  and  the  seance  commences.  There  is  full 
gas  on  all  the  time,  and  Mr.  Towns  sits  in  the  midst  of  the 
circle.  He  does  not  go  under  trance,  but  rubs  his  fore- 
head for  a  few  minutes  and  then  turns  round  suddenly  and 
addresses  members  of  his  audience,  as  it  may  seem,  promis- 
cuously, but  it  is  just  as  he  is  impressed.  He  talks,  as  a 
rule,  in  metaphor,  or  allegorically,  but  his  meaning  is  per- 
fectly plain  to  the  person  he  addresses.  It  is  not  only  silly 
women,  or  curious  inquirers,  who  attend  Mr.  Towns' 
circles.  You  may  see  plenty  of  grave,  and  often  anxious, 
business  men  around  him,  waiting  to  hear  if  they  shall  sell 
out  their  shares,  or  hold  on  till  the  market  rises  ;  where 
they  are  to  search  for  lost  certificates  or  papers  of  value  ; 
or  on  whom  they  are  to  fix  the  blame  of  money  or  articles 
of  value  that  have  disappeared.  Once  in  my  presence  a 
serious-looking  man  had  kept  his  eye  fixed  on  him  for  some 
time,  evidently  anxious  to  speak.  Mr.  Towns  turned  sud- 
denly to  him.  "  You  want  to  know,  sir,"  he  commenced, 
without  any  preface,  "  where  that  baptismal  certificate  is 
to  be  found."  "  I  do,  indeed,"  replied  the  man  ;  "it  is  a 

13 


194  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

case  of  a  loss  of  thousands  if  it  is  not  forthcoming."  "Let 
me  see,"  said  Mr.  Towns,  with  his  finger  to  his  forehead. 
"  Have  you  tried  a  church  with  a  square  tower  without 
any  steeple,  an  ugly,  clumsy  building,  while-washed  inside, 
standing  in  a  village.     Stop  !  I  can  see  the  registrar  books 

— the  village's  name  is .     The  entry  is  at  page   200. 

The  name  is .     The  mother  s  name  is .     Is   that 

the  certificate  you  want  ?  "  "  It  is,  indeed,"  said  the  man  ; 

"and  it  is  in  the  church  at ?"  "  Didn't  I  say  it  was  in 

the  church  at ?  "  replied  Mr.  Towns,  who  does  not  like 

to  be  doubted  or  contradicted.  "  Go  and  you  will  find  it 
there."  And  the  man  did  go  and  did  find  it  there.  To 
listen  to  the  conversations  that  go  on  between  him  and  his 
clients  at  these  meetings,  Mr.  Towns  is  apparently  not  less 
successful  with  love  affairs  than  with  business  affairs,  and 
it  is  an  interesting  experience  to  attend  them,  if  only  for 
the  sake  of  curiosity.  But  naturally,  to  visit  him  privately 
is  to  command  much  more  of  his  attention.  He  will  not, 
however,  sit  for  everybody,  and  it  is  of  no  use  attempting 
to  deceive  him.  He  is  exceedingly  keen-sighted  into 
character,  and  if  he  takes  a  dislike  to  a  man  he  will  tell 
him  so  without  the  slightest  hesitation.  No  society  lies  are 
manufactured  in  the  little  oil  shop.  A  relative  of  mine, 
who  was  not  the  most  faithful  husband  in  the  world,  and 
who,  in  consequence,  judged  of  his  wife's  probity  by  his 
own,  went,  during  her  temporary  absence,  to  Mr.  Towns  to 
ask  him  a  delicate  question.  The  lady  was  well  known  to 
the  medium,  but  the  husband  he  had  never  seen  before, 
and  had  no  notion  who  his  sitter  was,  until  he  pulled  out 
a  letter  from  his  pocket,  thrust  it  across  the  table,  and 
said,  "  There  !  look  at  that  letter  and  tell  me  if  the  writer 
is  faithful  to  me."  Mr.  Towns  told  me  that  as  he  took  the 
envelope  in  his  hand,  he  saw  the  lady's  face  photographed 
upon  it,  and  at  the  same  moment,  all  the  blackness  of  the 
husband's  own  life.  He  rose  up  like  an  avenging  deity 
and   pointed    to  the  door.    "  This  letter,"  he  said,  "  was 

written  by  Mrs. .     Go  !  man,  and  wash  your  own  hands 

clean,  and  then  come  and  ask  me  questions  about  your 
wife."  And  so  the  "  heavy  swell  "  had  to  slink  downstairs 
again.  I  have  often  gone  myself  to  Mr.  Towns  before 
engaging  in  any  new  business,  and  always  received  the 
best  advice,  and  been  told  exactly  what  would  occur  during 
its  progress.     When  I  was  about  to  start  on  the  "  Golden 


THERE    IS  NO  DEATH.  195 

Goblin  "  tour  in  management  with  my  son — I  went  to  him 
to  ask  if  it  would  be  successful.  He  not  only  told  me  what 
money  it  would  bring  in,  but  where  the  weak  points  would 
occur.  The  drama  was  then  completed,  and  in  course  of 
rehearsal,  and  had  been  highly  commended  by  all  who  had 
heard  and  seen  it.  Mr.  Towns,  however,  who  had  neither 
seen  nor  heard  it,  insisted  it  would  have  to  be  altered  before 
it  was  a  complete  success.  This  annoyed  me,  and  I  knew 
it  would  annoy  my  son,  the  author ;  besides,  I  believed  it 
was  a  mistake,  so  I  said  nothing  about  it.  Before  it  had 
run  a  month,  however,  the  alterations  were  admitted  on 
all  sides  to  be  necessary,  and  were  consequently  made. 
Everything  that  Mr.  Towns  prognosticated  on  that  oc- 
sion  came  to  pass,  even  to  the  strangers  I  should  encounter 
on  tour,  and  how  their  acquaintance  would  affect  my  future 
life  ;  also  how  long  the  tour  would  last,  and  in  which  towns 
it  would  achieve  the  greatest  success.  I  can  assure  some 
of  my  professional  friends,  that  if  they  would  take  the 
trouble  to  consult  a  trustworthy  clairvoyant  about  their 
engagements  before  booking  them,  they  would  not  find 
themselves  so  often  in  the  hands  of  the  bogus  manager  as 
they  do  now.  A  short  time  ago  I  received  a  summons  to 
the  county  court,  and  although  I  knew  I  was  in  the  right, 
yet  law  has  so  many  loopholes  that  I  felt  nervous.  The 
case  was  called  for  eleven  o'clock  on  a  certain  Wednesday, 
and  the  evening  before  I  joined  Mr.  Towns' circle.  When 
it  came  to  my  turn  to  question  him,  I  said,  "  Do  you  see 
where  I  shall  be  to-morrow  morning  ?  "  He  replied,  "  I 
can  see  you  are  called  to  appear  in  a  court-house,  but  the 
case  will  be  put  off."  "  Put  off"  I  repeated,  "  but  it  is  fixed 
for  eleven.  It  can't  be  put  off."  "  Cases  are  sometimes 
relegated  to  another  court,"  said  Mr.  Towns,  Then  I 
thought  he  had  quite  got  out  of  his  depth,  and  replied, 
"  You  are  making  a  mistake.  This  is  quite  an  ordinary 
business.  It  can't  go  to  a  higher  court.  But  shall  I  gain 
it  ?"  **  In  the  afternoon,"  said  the  medium.  His  answers 
so  disappointed  me  that  I  placed  no  confidence  in  them, 
and  went  to  the  county  court  on  the  following  morning  in 
a  nervous  condition.  But  he  was  perfectly  correct.  The 
case  was  called  for  eleven,  but  as  the  defendant  was  not 
forthcoming,  it  was  passed  over,  and  the  succeeding 
hearings  occupied  so  much  time,  that  the  magistrate 
thought  mine  would  never  come  off,  so  he  relegated  it  at 


196  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

two  o'clock  to  another  court  to  be  heard  before  the  registrar, 
who  decided  it  at  once  in  mv  favor,  so  that  T  gained  it  in 
the  afternoon. 


One  afternoon  in  my  "  green  sallet "  days  of  Spiritualism, 
when  every  fresh  experience  almost  made  my  breath  stop, 
I  turned  into  the  Progressive  Library  in  Southampton  Row, 
to  ask  if  there  were  any  new  media  come  to  town.  Mr. 
Burns  did  not  know  of  any,  but  asked  me  if  I  had  ever 
attended  one  of  Mrs.  Olive's  seances,  a  series  of  which  were 
being  held  weekly  in  the  Library  Rooms.  I  had  not,  and 
I  bought  a  half-crown  ticket  for  admission,  and  returned 
there  the  same  evening.  When  I  entered  the  seance  room, 
the  medium  had  not  arrived,  and  I  had  time  to  take  stock 
of  the  audience.  It  seemed  a  very  sad  and  serious  one. 
There  was  no  whispering  nor  giggling  going  on,  and  it 
struck  me  they  looked  more  like  patients  waiting  the 
advent  of  the  doctor,  than  people  bound  on  an  evening's 
amusement.  And  that,  to  my  surprise,  was  what  I  after- 
wards found  they  actually  were,  Mrs.  Olive  did  not  keep 
us  long  waiting,  and  when  she  came  in,  dressed  in  a  lilac 
muslin  dress,  with  her  golden  hair  parted  plainly  on  her 
forehead,  her  very  blue  eyes,  and  a  sweet,  womanly  smile 
for  her  circle,  she  looked  as  unlike  the  popular  idea  of  a 
professional  medium  as  anyone  could  possibly  do.  She  sat 
down  on  a  chair  in  the  middle  of  the  circle,  and,  having 
closed  her  eyes,  went  off  to  sleep.  Presently  she  sat  up, 
and,  still  with  her  eyes  closed,  said  in  a  very  pleasant,  but 
decidedly  manly,  voice  :  **  And  now,  my  friends,  what  can 
I  do  for  you  ?  " 

A  lady  in  the  circle  began  to  ask  advice  about  her 
daughter.  The  medium  held  up  her  hand.  "■  Stop  !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, "  you  are  doing  viy  work.  Friend,  your  daughter 
is  ill,  you  say.  Then  it  is  my  business  to  see  what  is  the 
matter  with  her.  Will  you  come  here,  young  lady,  and  let 
me  feel  your  pulse."  Having  done  which,  the  medium  pro- 
ceeded to  detail  exactly  the  contents  of  the  girl's  stomach, 
and  to  advise  her  what  to  eat  and  drink  for  the  future. 
Another  lady  then  advanced  with  a  written  prescription. 
The  medium  examined  her,  made  an  alteration  or  two  in  the 
prescription,  and  told  her  to  go  on  with  it  till  further  orders. 
My  curiosity   was  aroused,  and  I  whispered  to  my  next 


THERE  IS  NO   DEATH  197 

neighbor  to  tell  me  who  the  control  was.  "  Sir  John 
Forbes,  a  celebrated  physician,"  she  replied.  "  He  has 
almost  as  large  a  connection  now  as  he  had  when  alive." 
I  was  not  exactly  ill  at  the  time,  but  I  was  not  strong,  and 
nothing  that  my  family  doctor  prescribed  for  me  seemed  to 
do  me  any  good.  So  wishing  to  test  the  abilities  of"  Sir 
John  Forbes,"  I  went  up  to  the  medium  and  knelt  down  by 
her  side.  "  What  is  the  matter  with  me,  Sir  John  ?  "  I 
begaii.  "  Don't  call  me  by  that  name,  little  friend,"  he  an- 
swered ;  "we  have  no  titles  on  this  side  the  world." 
"  What  shall  I  call  you,  then  ?  "  I  said.  "  Doctor,  plain 
Doctor,"  was  the  reply,  but  in  such  a  kind  voice.  "  Then 
tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  me,  Doctor."  "  Come  nearer, 
and  I'll  whisper  it  in  your  ear."  He  then  gave  me  a  detailed 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  I  suffered,  and  asked  what 
I  had  been  taking.  When  I  told  him.  "  All  wrong,  all 
wrong,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head.  "  Here  !  give  me  a 
pencil  and  paper."  I  had  a  notebook  in  my  pocket,  with  a 
metallic  pencil,  which  I  handed  over  to  him,  and  he  wrote 
a  prescription  in  it.  "  Take  that,  and  you'll  be  all  the  better, 
little  friend,"  he  said,  as  he  gave  it  to  me  back  again. 
When  I  had  time  to  examine  what  he  had  written,  I  found 
to  my  surprise  that  the  prescription  was  in  abbreviated 
Latin,  with  the  amount  of  each  ingredient  given  in  the 
regular  medical  shorthand.  Mrs.  Olive,  a  simple  though 
intelligent  looking  woman,  seemed  a  very  unlikely  person 
to  me  to  be  educated  up  to  this  degree.  However,  I 
determined  to  obtain  a  better  opinion  than  my  own,  so  the 
next  time  my  family  doctor  called  to  see  me,  I  said  :  "  I 
have  had  a  prescription  given  me.  Doctor,  which  I  am 
anxious,  with  your  permission,  to  try.  I  wish  you  would 
glance  your  eye  over  it  and  see  if  you  approve  of  my  taking 
it."  At  the  same  time  I  handed  him  the  note-book,  and  I 
saw  him  grow  very  red  as  he  looked  at  the  prescription. 
"  Anything  wrong  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  O  !  dear  no  !  "  he  re- 
plied in  an  offended  tone  ;  "  you  can  try  your  remedy, 
and  welcome,  for  aught  I  care — only,  next  time  you  wish 
to  consult  a  new  doctor,  I  advise  you  to  dismiss  the  old 
one  first."  "  But  this  prescription  was  not  written  by  a 
doctor,"  I  argued.  At  this  he  looked  still  more  offended. 
"  It's  no  use  trying  to  deceive  me,  Mrs.  Ross-Church  ! 
That  prescription  was  written  by  no  one  but  a  medical 
man."  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  make  him  really 


198  THERE  IS  NO   DEATH. 

believe  who  had  transcribed  it,  and  under  what  circum- 
stances. When  he  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  my  state- 
ment, he  was  very  much  astonished,  and  laid  all  his  pro- 
fessional pique  aside.  He  did  more.  He  not  only  urged 
me  to  have  the  prescription  made  up,  but  he  confessed  that 
his  first  chagrin  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  felt  he  should 
have  thought  of  it  himself.  "  That,''  he  said,  pointing  to 
one  ingredient,  "  is  the  very  thing  to  suit  your  case,  and 
it  makes  me  feel  such  a  fool  to  think  that  a  woman  should 
think  of  what  /passed  over." 

Nothing  would  make  this  doctor  believe  in  Spiritualism, 
though  he  continued  to  aver  that  only  a  medical  man  could 
have  prescribed  the  medicine  ;  but  as  I  saw  dozens  of 
other  cases  treated  at  the  time  by  Mrs.  Olive,  and  have 
.seen  dozens  since,  I  know  that  she  does  it  by  a  power  not 
her  own.  For  several  years  after  that  "  Sir  John  Forbes  " 
used  to  give  me  advice  about  my  health,  and  when  his 
medium  married  Colonel  Greek  and  went  to  live  in  Russia, 
he  was  so  sorry  to  leave  his  numerous  patients,  and  they  to 
lose  him,  that  he  wanted  to  control  me  in  order  that  I 
might  carry  on  his  practice,  but  after  several  attempts  he 
gave  it  up  as  hopeless.  He  said  my  brain  was  too  active 
for  any  spirit  to  magnetize  ;  and  he  is  not  the  first,  nor  last, 
who  has  made  the  same  attempt,  and  failed.  "  Sir  John 
Forbes  "  was  not  Mrs.  Olive's  only  control.  She  had  a 
charming  spirit  called  "  Sunshine,"  who  used  to  come  for 
clairvoyance  and  prophecy  ;  and  a  very  comical  negro 
named  "  Hambo,"  who  was  as  humorous  and  full  of  native 
wit  and  repartee,  as  negroes  generally  are,  and  as  Mrs. 
Olive,  who  is  a  very  gentle,  quiet  woman,  decidedly  was 
not.  "  Hambo  "  was  the  business  adviser  and  director,  and 
sometimes  materialized,  which  the  others  did  not.  These 
three  influences  were  just  as  opposite  from  one  another, 
and  from  Mrs.  Olive,  as  any  creatures  could  possibly  be. 
"Sir  John  Forbes,"  so  dignified,  courteous,  and  truly  bene- 
volent— such  a  thorough  old  gentleman  ;  "  Sunshine,"  a 
sweet,  sympathetic  Indian  girl,  full  of  gentle  reproof  for 
wrongand  exhortations  to  lead  a  higher  life  ;  and  "  Hambo," 
humorous  and  witty,  caUing  a  spade  a  spade,  and  occa- 
sionally descending  to  coarseness,  but  never  unkind  or 
wicked.  I  knew  them  all  over  a  space  of  years  until  I 
regarded  them  as  old  friends.  Mrs.  Greek  is  now  a  widow, 
and  residing  in  England,  and,  I  hear,  sitting  again  for  her 


THERE   IS   NO   DEATH.  199 

friends.  If  so,  a  great  benefit  in  the  person  of  "  Sir  John 
Forbes  "  has  returned  for  a  portion  of  mankind. 

I  have  kept  a  well-known  physical  medium  to  the  last, 
not  because  I  do  not  consider  his  powers  to  be  completely 
genuine,  but  because  they  are  of  a  nature  that  will  not 
appeal  to  such  as  have  not  witnessed  them.  I  allude  to 
Mr.  Charles  Williams,  with  whom  I  have  sat  many  times 
alone,  and  also  with  Mrs,  Guppy  Volckman.  The  mani- 
festations that  take  place  at  his  j-(frt!«r<?jare  always  material. 
The  much  written  of  "  John  King  "  is  his  principal  control, 
and  invariably  appears  under  his  mediumship  ;  and  "  Ern- 
est "  is  the  name  of  another.  I  have  seen  Charles  Williams 
leave  the  cabinet  under  trance  and  wander  in  an  aimless 
manner  about  the  room,  whilst  both  "  John  King  "  and 
"  Ernest  "  were  with  the  circle,  and  have  heard  them  re- 
prove him  for  rashness.  I  have  also  seen  him  under  the 
same  circumstances,  during  an  afternoon  seance,  mistake 
the  window  curtains  for  the  curtains  of  the  cabinet,  and 
draw  them  suddenly  aside,  letting  the  full  light  of  day  in 
upon  the  scene,  and  showing  vacancy  where  a  moment 
before  two  figures  had  been  standing  and  talking. 

Once  when  "  John  King  "  asked  Colonel  Lean  what  he 
should  bring  him,  he  was  told  mentally  to  fetch  the  half- 
hoop  diamond  ring  from  my  finger  and  place  it  on  that  of 
my  husband. 

This  half-hoop  ring  was  worn  between  my  wedding  ring 
and  a  heavy  gold  snake  ring,  and  I  was  holding  the  hand 
of  my  neighbor  all  the  time,  and  yet  the  ring  was  abstract- 
ed from  between  the  other  two  and  transferred  to  Colonel 
Lean's  finger  without  my  being  aware  of  the  circumstance. 
These  and  various  other  marvels,  I  have  seen  under  Mr. 
Williams'  mediumship  ;  but  as  I  can  adduce  no  proof  that 
they  were  genuine,  except  ray  own  conviction,  it  would 
be  useless  to  write  them  down  here.  Only  I  could  not 
close  the  list  of  the  media  with  whom  I  have  familiarly  sat 
in  London,  and  from  whom  I  have  received  both  kindness 
and  courtesy,  without  including  his  name.  It  is  the  same 
with  several  others — with  Mr.  Frank  Heme  (now  deceased) 
and  his  wife  Mrs.  Heme,  whom  I  first  knew  as  Mrs.  Bas- 
sett,  a  famous  medium  for  the  direct  spirit  voice  ;  with 
Mrs.  Wilkinson,  a  clairvoyant  who  has  a  large  clientele  of 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  patrons  ;  with  Mrs.  Wilkins  and 
Mr.^Vango,  both  reliable,  though,  as  yet,  less  well  known 


200  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

to  the  spiritualistic  public  ;  and  with  Dr.  Wilson,  the 
astrologer,  who  will  tell  you  all  you  have  ever  done,  and 
all  you  are  ever  going  to  do,  if  you  will  only  give  him  the 
opportunity  of  casting  your  horoscope.  To  all  and  each  I 
tender  my  thanks  for  having  afforded  me  increased  oppor- 
tunities of  searching  into  the  truth  of  a  science  that 
possesses  the  utmost  interest  for  me,  and  that  has  given 
me  the  greatest  pleasure. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  20I 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

ON  LAYING  THE  CARDS. 

At  the  risk  of  being  laughed  at,  I  cannot  refrain,  in  the 
course  of  ihis  narrative  of  my  spiritualistic  experiences, 
from  saying  a  few  words  about  what  is  called  "  laying  the 
cards."  "  Imagine  !  "  I  fancy  I  hear  some  dear  creature 
with  nose  "  tip-tilted  like  a  flower  "  exclaim,  "  any  sensible 
woman  believing  in  cards."  And  yet  Napoleon  believed  in 
them,  and  regulated  the  fate  of  nations  by  them  ;  and  the 
only  times  he  neglected  their  admonitions  were  followed  by 
the  retreat  from  Moscow  and  the  defeat  at  Waterloo.  Still 
I  did  not  believe  in  card-telling  till  the  belief  was  forced 
upon  me.  I  always  thought  it  rather  cruel  to  give  imprison- 
ment and  hard  labor  to  old  women  who  laid  the  cards  for 
servant  girls.  Who  can  tell  whether  or  no  it  is  obtaining 
money  upon  false  pretences  ;  and  if  it  is,  why  not  inflict 
the  same  penalty  on  every  cheating  tradesman  who  sells 
inferior  articles  or  gives  short  weight  ?  Women  would  be 
told  they  should  look  after  their  own  interests  in  the  one 
case — so  why  not  in  the  other  ?  But  all  the  difference  lies 
in  who  lays  the  cards.  Very  few  people  can  do  it  success- 
fully, and  my  belief  is  that  it  must  be  done  by  a  person  with 
mediumistic  power,  which,  in  some  mysterious  manner, 
influences  the  disposition  of  the  pack.  I  have  seen  cards 
shufiled  and  cut  twenty  times  in  the  hope  of  getting  rid  of 
some  number  antagonistic  to  the  inquirer's  good  fortune, 
and  yet  each  time  the  same  card  would  turn  up  in  the 
juxtaposition  least  to  be  desired.  However,  to  narrate  my 
own  experience.  When  I  was  living  in  Brussels,  years 
before  I  heard  of  modern  Spiritualism,  I  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  an  Irish  lady  called  Mrs.  Thorpe,  a  widow  who  was 
engaged  as  a  chdperon  for  some  young  Belgian  ladies  of 
high  birth,  who  had  lost  their  mother.  We  lived  near  each 
other,  and  she  often  came  in  to  have  a  chat  with  me. 
After  a  while  I  heard  through  some  other  friends  that  Mrs. 
Thorpe  was  a  famous  hand  at  "laying  the  cards;"  and 


202  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

one  day,  when  we  were  alone,  I  asked  her  to  tell  me  my 
fortune.  I  didn't  in  the  least  believe  in  it,  but  I  wanted 
to  be  amused.  Mrs.  Thorpe  begged  to  be  excused  at  once. 
She  told  me  her  predictions  had  proved  so  true,  she  was 
afraid  to  look  into  futurity  any  more.  She  had  seen  a  son 
and  heir  for  a  couple  who  had  been  married  twenty  years 
without  having  any  children,  and  death  for  a  girl  just 
about  to  become  a  bride — and  both  had  come  true  ;  and, 
in  fact,  her  employer,  the  Baron,  had  strictly  forbidden 
her  doing  it  any  more  whilst  in  his  house.  However,  this 
only  fired  my  curiosity,  aiid  1  teased  her  until,  on  my 
promising  to  preserve  the  strictest  secrecy,  she  complied 
with  my  request.  She  predicted  several  things  in  which  I 
had  little  faith,  but  which  I  religiously  wrote  down  in  case 
they  came  true — the  three  most  important  being  that  my 
husband,  Colonel  Ross-Church  (who  was  then  most  seri- 
ously ill  in  India),  would  not  die,  but  that  his  brother, 
Edward  Church,  would  ;  that  I  should  have  one  more  child 
by  my  first  marriage — a  daughter  with  exceedingly  fair  skin 
and  hair,  who  would  prove  to  be  the  cleverest  of  all  my 
children,  and  that  after  her  birth  I  should  never  hve  with 
my  husband  again.  All  these  events  were  most  unlikely 
to  come  to  pass  at  that  time,  and,  indeed,  did  not  come  to 
pass  for  years  afterwards,  yet  each  one  was  fulfilled,  and 
the  daughter  who,  unlike  all  her  brothers  and  sisters,  is 
fair  as  a  lily,  will  be  by  no  means  the  last  in  the  race  for 
talent.  Yet  these  cards  were  laid  four  years  before  her 
birth.  Mrs.  Thorpe  told  me  she  had  learnt  the  art  from  a 
pupil  of  the  identical  Italian  countess  who  used  to  lay  the 
cards  for  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  But  it  is  not  an  art,  and 
it  is  not  to  be  learnt.     It  is  inspiration. 

Many  years  after  this,  when  I  had  just  begun  to  study 
Spiritualism,  my  sister  told  me  of  a  wonderful  old  lady,  a 
neighbor  of  hers,  who  had  gained  quite  an  evil  reputation 
in  the  village  by  her  prophetical  powers  with  the  cards. 
Like  Mrs.  Thorpe,  she  had  become  afraid  of  herself,  and 
professed  to  have  given  up  the  practice.  The  last  time 
she  had  laid  them,  a  girl  acquaintance  had  walked  over 
joyously  from  an  adjacent  village  to  introduce  her  affianced 
husband  to  her,  and  to  beg  her  to  tell  them  what  would 
happen  in  their  married  life.  The  old  lady  had  laid  the 
cards,  and  saw  the  death  card  turn  up  three  times  with  the 
marriage  ring,  and  told  the  young  people,  much  to  their 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  203 

chagrin,  that  they  must  prepare  for  a  disappointment,  as 
their  marriage  would  certainly  be  postponed  from  some 
obstacle  arising  in  the  way.  She  told  me  afterwards  that 
she  dared  not  tell  them  more  than  this.  They  left  her 
somewhat  sobered,  but  still  full  of  hope,  and  started  on 
their  way  home.  Before  they  reached  it  the  young  man 
staggered  and  fell  down  dead.  No  one  had  expected  such 
a  catastrophe.  He  had  been  apparently  in  the  best  of 
health  and  spirits.  What  was  it  that  had  made  this  old 
lady  foresee  what  no  one  else  had  seen  ? 

These  are  no  trumped-up  tales  after  the  prediction  had 
been  fulfilled.  Everyone  knew  it  to  be  true,  and  became 
frightened  to  look  into  the  future  for  themselves.  I  was  an 
exception  to  the  general  rule,  however,  and  persuaded  Mrs. 
Simmonds  to  lay  the  cards  for  me.  I  had  just  completed 
a  two  months'  sojourn  at  the  seaside,  was  in  robust  health, 
and  anticipating  my  return  home  for  the  sake  of  meeting 
again  with  a  friend  who  was  very  dear  to  me.  I  shuffled 
and  cut  the  cards  according  to  directions.  The  old  lady 
looked  rather  grave.  "  I  don't  like  your  cards,"  she  said, 
"  there  is  a  good  deal  of  trouble  before  you — trouble  and 
sickness.  You  will  not  return  home  so  soon  as  you  antici- 
pate. You  will  be  detained  by  illness,  and  when  you  do 
return,  you  will  find  a  letter  on  the  table  that  will  cut  you 
to  the  heart.  I  am  sorry  you  have  stayed  away  so  long. 
There  has  been  treachery  in  your  absence,  and  a  woman 
just  your  opposite,  with  dark  eyes  and  hair,  has  got  the 
better  of  you.  However,  it  will  be  a  sharp  trouble,  but 
not  a  lengthy  one.  You  will  see  the  wisdom  of  it  before 
long,  and  be  thankful  it  has  happened."  I  accepted  my 
destiny  with  complacency,  never  supposing  (notwithstand- 
ing all  that  I  had  heard)  that  it  would  come  true.  I  was 
within  a  few  days  of  starting  for  home,  and  had  received 
affectionate  letters  from  my  friend  all  the  time  I  had  been 
away.  However,  as  Fate  and  the  cards  would  have  it,  I 
was  taken  ill  the  very  day  after  they  were  laid  for  me,  and 
confined  for  three  weeks  with  a  kind  of  low  feve.r  to  my 
bed ;  and  when  weakened  and  depressed  I  returned  to  my 
home  I  found  the  letter  on  my  table  that  Mrs.  Simmonds 
had  predicted  for  me,  to  say  that  my  friendship  with  my 
(supposed)  friend  was  over  and  done  with  for  ever.  After 
this  I  began  to  have  more  respect  for  cards,  or  rather  for 
the  persons  who  successfully  laid  them.     In  1888,  when  I 


204  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

Was  touring  with  my  company  with  the  "  Golden  Goblin," 
I  stayed  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  in  Accrington.  Our 
sojourn  there  was  to  be  only  for  a  week,  and,  as  may  be 
supposed,  the  accommodation  in  the  way  of  lodgings  was 
very  poor.  When  we  had  been  there  a  iQw  days  a  lady  of 
tlie  company  said  to  mc,  "  There  is  such  a  funny  old 
woman  at  my  lodgings,  Miss  Marryat  !  I  wish  you'd  come 
and  see  her.  She  can  tell  fortunes  with  the  cards,  and  I 
know  you  believe  in  such  things.  She  has  told  my  husband 
and  me  all  about  ourselves  in  the  most  wonderful  manner; 
but  you  mustn't  come  when  the  old  man  is  at  home,  be- 
cause he  says  it's  devilry,  and  he  has  forbidden  her  doing 
it."  "  I  atn  very  much  interested  in  that  sort  of  thing,"  I 
replied,  "  and  I  will  certainly  pay  her  a  visit,  if  you  will 
tell  me  when  I  may  come."  A  time  was  accordingly  fixed 
for  my  going  to  the  lady's  rooms,  and  on  my  arrival  there 
I  was  introduced  to  a  greasy,  snuffy  old  landlady,  who 
didn't  look  as  if  she  had  a  soul  above  a  bottle  of  gin. 
However,  I  sat  down  at  a  table  with  her,  and  the  cards 
were  cut.  She  told  me  nothing  that  my  friends  might  have 
told  her  concerning  me,  but  dived  at  once  into  the  future. 
My  domestic  affairs  were  in  a  very  complicated  state  at 
that  period,  and  I  had  no  idea  myself  how  they  would  end. 
She  saw  the  whole  situation  at  a  glance — described  the 
actors  in  the  scene,  the  places  they  lived  in,  the  people  by 
whom  they  were  surrounded,  and  exactly  how  the  whole 
business  would  end,  and  did  end.  She  foretold  the 
running  of  the  tour,  how  long  it  would  last,  and  which  of 
the  company  would  leave  before  it  concluded.  She  told 
me  that  a  woman  in  the  company,  whom  I  believed  at  that 
time  to  be  attached  to  me,  would  prove  to  be  one  of  my 
greatest  enemies,  and  be  the  cause  of  estrangement  between 
me  and  one  of  my  nearest  relations,  and  she  opened  my 
eyes  to  that  woman's  character  in  a  way  which  forced  me 
afterwards  to  find  out  that  to  which  I  might  have  been 
blind  forever.  And  this  information  emanated  from  a  dirty, 
ignorant,  old  lodging  keeper,  who  had  probably  never 
heard  of  my  name  until  it  was  thrust  before  her,  and  yet 
told  me  things  that  my  most  intimate  and  cleverest  friends 
had  no  power  to  tell  me.  After  the  woman  at  Accrington 
I  never  looked  at  a  card  for  the  purpose  of  divination  until 
my  attention  was  directed  last  year  to  a  woman  in  London 
who  is  very  clever  at  the  same  thing,  and  a  friend  asked 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  205 

me  to  go  with  her  and  see  what  she  could  tell  us.  This 
woman,  who  is  quite  of  the  lower  class,  and  professedly  a 
dressmaker,  received  us  in  a  bedroom,  the  door  of  which 
was  carefully  locked.  She  was  an  elderly  woman  and 
rather  intelligent  and  well  educated  for  her  position,  but' 
she  could  adduce  no  reason  whatever  for  her  facility  in 
reading  the  cards.  She  told  me  "  it  came  to  her,"  she  didn't 
know  why  or  how. 

It  "  came  to  her  "  with  a  vengeance  for  me.  She  rattled 
off  my  past,  present  and  future  as  if  she  had  been  reading 
from  an  open  book,  and  she  mentioned  the  description  of  a 
person  (which  I  completely  recognized)  so  constantly  with 
reference  to  my  future,  that  I  thought  I  would  try  her  by  a 
question.  "  Stop  a  minute,"  I  said,  "  this  person  whom 
you  have  alluded  to  so  often — have  I  ever  met  him  ?  " 
"  Of  course  you  have  met  him,"  she  replied,  "  you  know 
him  intimately."  "  I  don't  recognize  the  description,"  I 
returned,  fallaciously.  The  woman  turned  round  and 
looked  me  full  in  the  face.  "  You  don't  recognize  him  .?" 
she  repeated  in  an  incredulous  tone,  "  then  you  must  be 
very  dull.  Well  !  I'll  tell  you  how  to  recognize  him.  Next 
time  you  meet  a  gentleman  out  walking  who  raises  his  hat, 
and  before  he  shakes  hands  with  you,  draws  a  written 
or  printed  paper  from  his  pocket  and  presents  it  to 
you,  you  can  remember  my  words.  That  is  the  man  I 
mean." 

I  laughed  at  the  quaintness  of  the  idea  and  returned 
home.  As  I  was  walking  from  the  station  to  my  own 
house  I  met  the  person  she  had  described.  As  he  neared 
me  he  raised  his  hat,  and  then  putting  his  hand  in  his 
pocket  he  said,  "  Good  afternoon  !  I  have  something  for 
you  !  I  met  Burrows  this  morning.  He  was  going  on  to 
you,  but  as  he  was  in  a  great  hurry  he  asked  me  if  I  was 
likely  to  see  you  to-day  to  give  you  this."  And  he  pre- 
sented me  with  a  printed  paper  of  regulations  which  I  had 
asked  the  man  he  mentioned  to  procure  for  me. 

Now,  here  was  no  stereotyped  utterance  of  the  cards — no 
stock  phrase — but  a  deliberate  prophecy  of  an  unfulfilled 
event.  It  is  upon  such  things  that  I  base  my  opinion  that, 
given  certain  persons  and  certain  circumstances,  the  cards 
are  a  very  fertile  source  of  information,  It  is  absurd  in 
cases  like  those  I  have  related  to  lay  it  all  down  to  chance, 
to  clever  guessing,  or  to  trickery.  If  my  readers  believe  so, 


2o6  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH* 

let  me  ask  them  to  try  it  for  themselves.  If  it  is  all  folly, 
and  any  stupid,  ignorant  old  woman  can  do  it,  of  course 
they  must  be  able  to  master  the  trick.  Let  them  get  a 
pack  of  cards  and  lay  them  according  to  the  usual  direc- 
•tions — there  are  any  number  of  books  published  that  will 
tell  them  how  to  do  it — and  then  see  if  they  can  foretell  a 
single  event  of  importance  correctly.  They  will  probably 
find  (as  /do)  that  the  cards  are  a  sealed  book  to  them.  I 
would  give  a  great  deal  to  be  able  to  lay  the  cards  with  any 
degree  of  success  for  myself  or  my  friends.  But  nothing 
"comes  to  me."  The  cards  remain  painted  pieces  of  card- 
board, and  nothing  more.  And  yet  an  ignorant  creature 
who  has  no  brains  of  her  own  can  dive  deep  into  the 
mysteries  of  my  mind,  and  turn  my  inmost  thoughts  and 
wishes  inside  out, —  more,  can  pierce  futurity  and  tell 
me  what  shall  be.  However,  if  my  hearers  continue  to 
doubt  my  story,  I  can  only  repeat  my  admonition  to  try 
it  for  themselves.  If  they  once  succeed,  they  will  not  give 
it  up  again. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  807 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

SPIRITUALISM  IN  AMERICA. 

I.  Mrs.  M.  A.  Williams. 

I  WENT  to  America  on  a  professional  engagement  in  Octo- 
ber, 1884.  Some  months  beforehand  a  very  liberal  offer 
had  been  made  me  by  the  Spiritualists  of  Great  Britain  to 
write  my  experiences  for  the  English  press,  but  I  declined 
to  do  so  until  I  could  add  my  American  notes  to  them.  I 
had  corresponded  (as  I  have  shown)  with  the  Ban?ier  of 
Light  in  New  York;  and  what  I  had  heard  of  Spiritualism 
in  America  had  made  me  curious  to  witness  it.  But  I  was 
determined  to  test  it  on  a  strictly  private  plan.  I  said  to 
myself :  *'  I  have  seen  and  heard  pretty  nearly  all  there  is 
to  be  seen  and  heard  on  the  subject  in  England,  but,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  I  have  never  sat  at  any  seance 
where  I  was  not  known.  Now  I  am  going  to  visit  a  strange 
country  where,  in  a  matter  like  Spiritualism,  I  can  conceal 
my  identity,  so  as  to  afford  the  media  no  clue  to  my  sur- 
roundings or  the  names  of  my  deceased  friends."  I  sailed 
for  America  quite  determined  to  pursue  a  strictly  secret 
investigation,  and  with  that  end  in  view  I  never  mentioned 
the  subject  to  anyone. 

I  had  a  few  days  holiday  in  New  York  before  proceed- 
ing to  Boston,  where  my  work  opened,  and  I  stayed  at 
one  of  the  largest  hotels  in  the  city.  I  landed  on  Sunday 
morning,  and  on  Monday  evening  I  resolved  to  make  my 
first  venture.  Had  I  been  a  visitor  in  London,  I  should 
have  had  to  search  out  the  right  sort  of  people,  and  make 
a  dozen  inquiries  before  I  heard  where  the  media  were 
hiding  themselves  from  dread  of  the  law ;  but  they  order 
such  things  better  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  People 
are  allowed  to  hold  their  private  opinions  and  their  private 
religion  there  without  being  swooped  down  upon  and 
clapi)ed  into  prison  for  rogues  and  vagabonds.  Whatever 
the  views  of  the  majority  may  be,  upon  this  subject  or  any 


2o8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

other  (and  Heaven  knows  I  would  have  each  man  strong 
enough  to  ding  to  his  opinion,  and  brave  enough  to 
acknowledge  it  before  the  world),  I  think  it  is  a  discredit 
to  a  civilized  country  to  allow  old  laws,  that  were  made 
when  we  were  little  better  than  savages,  to  remain  in  force 
at  the  present  day.  We  are  far  too  much  over-ridden  by 
a  paternal  Government,  which  has  grown  so  blind  and 
senile  that  it  swallows  camels  while  it  is  straining  after  a 
gnat. 

There  was  no  obstacle  to  my  wish,  however,  in  New 
York.  I  had  but  to  glance  down  the  advertisement  columns 
of  the  newspapers  to  learn  where  the  media  lived,  and  on 
what  days  they  held  their  public  seaticcs.  It  so  happened 
that  Mrs.  M.  A.  Williams  was  the  only  one  who  held  open 
house  on  Monday  evenings  for  Materialization  ;  and  thither 
I  determined  to  go.  There  is  no  such  privacy  as  in  a  large 
hotel,  where  no  one  has  the  opportunity  to  see  what  his 
neighbor  is  doing.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  my  dinner  was 
concluded,  I  put  on  a  dark  cloak,  hat  and  veil,  and  walk- 
ing out  into  the  open,  got  into  one  of  the  cars  that  ran 
past  the  street  where  Mrs.  Williams  resided.  Arrived  at 
the  house,  I  knocked  at  the  door,  and  was  about  to  inquire 
if  there  was  to  be  any  seance  there,  that  evening,  when  the 
attendant  saved  me  the  trouble  by  saying,  "  Upstairs,  if 
you  please,  madam,"  and  nothing  more  passed  between  us. 
When  I  had  mounted  the  stairs,  I  found  myself  in  a  large 
room,  the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  a  thick  carpet, 
nailed  all  round  the  wainscotting.  On  one  side  were  some 
thirty  or  forty  cane-bottomed  chairs,  and  directly  facing 
them  was  the  cabinet.  This  consisted  of  four  uprights 
nailed  over  the  carpet,  with  iron  rods  connecting  them  at 
the  top.  There  was  no  roof  to  it,  but  curtains  of  a  dark 
maroon  color  were  usually  drawn  around,  but  when  I 
entered,  they  were  flung  back  over  the  iron  rods,  so  as  to 
disclose  the  interior.  There  was  a  stuffed  armchair  for  the 
use  of  the  medium,  and  in  front  of  the  cabinet  a  narrow 
table  with  papers  and  pencils  on  it,  the  use  of  which  I  did 
not  at  first  discover.  At  the  third  side  of  the  room  was  a 
harmonium,  so  placed  that  the  performer  sat  with  his  back 
both  to  the  cabinet  and  the  sitters.  A  large  gas  lamp, 
almost  like  a  limelight,  made  in  a  square  form  like  a  lan- 
tern, was  fixed  against  the  wall,  so  as  to  throw  the  light 
upon  the  cabinet,  but  it  was  fitted  with  a  sliding  shade  of 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  209 

red  silk,  with  which  it  could  be  darkened  if  necessary.  I 
was  early,  and  only  a  few  visitors  were  occupying  the  chairs. 
I  asked  a  lady  if  I  might  sit  where  I  chose,  and  on  her 
answering  "  Yes,"  I  took  the  chair  in  the  front  row,  exactly 
opposite  the  cabinet,  not  forgetting  that  I  was  there  in  the 
cause  of  Spiritualism  as  well  as  for  my  own  interests.  The 
seats  filled  rapidly  and  there  must  have  been  ihirty-five  or 
forty  people  present,  when  Mrs,  Williams  entered  the 
room,  and  nodding  to  those  she  knew,  went  into  the  cabi- 
net. Mrs.  Williams  is  a  stout  woman  of  middle  age,  with 
dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  a  fresh  complexion.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  tight-fitting  gown  of  pale  blue,  with  a  good 
deal  of  lace  about  the  neck  and  sleeves.  She  was  accom- 
panied by  a  gentleman,  and  I  then  discovered  for  the  first 
time  that  it  is  usual  in  America  to  have,  what  they  call,  a 
"  conductor  "  of  the  seance.  The  conductor  sits  close  to 
the  cabinet  curtains,  and,  if  any  spirit  is  too  weak  to  shew 
itself  outside,  or  to  speak  audibly,  he  conveys  the  message 
it  may  wish  to  send  to  its  friends  ;  and  when  I  knew  how 
very  few  precautions  the  Americans  take  to  prevent  such 
outrages  as  have  occurred  in  England,  and  how  many 
more  materializations  take  place  in  an  evening  there  than 
here,  I  saw  the  necessity  of  a  conductor  to  protect  the 
medium,  and  to  regulate  the  order  of  the  seance. 

Mrs.  Williams'  conductor  opened  the  proceedings  with 
a  very  neat  little  speech.  He  said,  "  I  see  several  strange 
faces  here  this  evening,  and  I  am  very  pleased  to  see  them, 
and  I  hope  they  may  derive  both  pleasure  and  profit  from 
our  meeting.  We  have  only  one  rule  for  the  conduct  of  our 
siances,  that  you  shall  behave  like  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
You  may  not  credit  all  you  see,  but  remember  this  is  our 
religion,  and  the  religion  of  many  present,  and  as  you 
would  behave  yourselves  reverently  and  decorously,  if  you 
were  in  a  church  of  another  persuasion  to  your  own,  so  I 
beg  of  you  to  behave  yourselves  here.  And  if  any  spirits 
should  come  for  you  whom  you  do  not  immediately  recog- 
nize, don't  wound  them  by  denying  their  identity.  They 
may  have  been  longing  for  this  moment  to  meet  you  again, 
and  doing  their  very  utmost  to  assume  once  more  the 
likeness  they  wore  on  earth  ;  yet  some  fail.  Don't  make 
their  failure  harder  to  bear  by  roughly  repudiating  all 
knowledge  of  them.  The  strangers  who  are  present  to- 
night  may  mistake   the  reason   of  this  little  table  being 

U 


4IO  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

placed  in  front  of  the  cabinet,  and  think  it  is  intendeu  to 
keep  tliem  from  too  close  an  inspection  of  the  spirits.  No 
such  thing  !  On  the  contrary,  all  will  be  invited  in  turn 
to  come  up  and  recognize  their  friends.  But  we  make  it  a 
rule  at  these  seances  that  no  materialized  spirix,  who  is 
strong  enough  to  come  beyond  that  table,  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  return  to  the  cabinet.  They  must  dematerialize 
in  sight  of  the  sitters,  that  no  possible  suspicion  may  rest 
upon  the  medium.  These  pencils  and  papers  are  placed 
here  in  case  any  spirit  who  is  unable  to  speak  may  be 
impressed  to  write  instead.  And  now  i/e  will  begin  the 
evening  with  a  song. 

The  accompanist  then  played  "  Foocsteps  of  Angels," 
the  audience  sung  it  with  a  will,  and  the  curtains  having 
been  drawn  round  Mrs.  Williams,  the  shade  was  drawn 
across  the  gaslight,  and  the  seance  began. 

I  don't  think  it  could  have  been  mure  than  a  minute  or 
two  before  we  heard  a  voice  whispering,  "  Father,"  and 
three  girls,  dressed  in  white  clinging  garments,  appeared 
at  the  opening  in  the  curtains.  An  old  man  with  white 
hair  left  his  seat  and  walked  up  to  the  cabinet,  when  they 
all  three  came  out  at  once  and  hung  about  his  neck  and 
kissed  him,  and  whispered  to  him.  I  almost  forgot  where 
I  was.  They  looked  so  perfectly  human,  so  joyous  and 
girl-like,  somewhere  between  seventeen  and  twenty,  and 
they  all  spoke  at  once,  so  like  what  girls  on  earth  would 
do,  that  it  was  most  mystifying.  The  old  man  came  back 
to  his  seat,  wiping  his  eyes.  "  Are  those  your  daughters, 
sir?  "  asked  one  of  the  sitters.  "  Yes  !  my  three  girls,"  he 
replied.  "  I  lost  them  all  before  ten  years  old,  but  you 
see  I've  got  them  back  again  here." 

Several  other  forms  appeared  after  this — one,  a  little 
child  of  about  three  years  old,  who  fluttered  in  and  out  of 
the  cabinet  like  a  butterfly,  and  ran  laughing  away  from 
the  sitters  who  tried  to  catch  her.  Some  of  the  meetings 
that  took  place  for  the  first  time  were  very  affecting.  One 
young  man  of  about  seventeen  or  eighteen,  who  was  called 
up  to  see  his  mother's  spirit,  sobbed  so  bitterly,  it  broke 
my  heart  to  hear  him.  There  was  not  the  least  doubt 
if  ^^  recognized  her  or  no.  He  was  so  overcome,  he  hardly 
raised  his  eyes  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  One  lady 
brought  her  spirit-son  up  to  me,  that  I  might  see  how  per- 
fectly he  had  materialized.     She  spoke  of  it  as  proudly  as 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  21 1 

she  might  have  done  if  he  had  passed  some  difficult  exami- 
nation. The  young  man  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  evening 
clothes,  and  he  shook  hands  with  me  at  his  mother's  bid- 
ding, with  the  firm  grasp  of  a  mortal.  Naturally,  I  had 
seen  too  much  in  England  for  all  this  to  surprise  me.  Still 
I  had. never  assisted  at  a  j^fl!//^<f  where  everything  appeared 
to  be  so  strangely  human — so  little  mystical,  except  indeed 
the  rule  of  dematerializing  before  the  sitters,  which  I  had 
only  seen  "  Katie  King  "  do  before.  But  here,  each  form, 
after  having  been  warned  by  the  conductor  that  its  time 
was  up,  sunk  down  right  through  the  carpet  as  though  it 
were  the  most  ordinary  mode  of  egression.  Some,  and 
more  especially  the  men,  did  not  advance  beyond  the  cur- 
tains ;  then  their  friends  were  invited  to  go  up  and  si)eak 
to  them,  and  several  went  inside  the  cabinet.  There  were 
necessarily  a  good  many  forms,  familiar  to  the  rest,  of  whom 
I  knew  nothing  ;  one  was  an  old  minister  under  whom  they 
had  all  sat,  another  a  gentleman  who  had  been  a  constant 
attendant  at  Mrs.  Williams'  starices. 

Once  the  conductor  spoke  to  me.  "  I  am  not  aware  of 
your  name,"  he  said  (and  I  thought,  "  No  !  my  friend,  and 
you  won't  be  aware  of  it  just  yet  either  !  "),  "  but  a  spirit 
here  wishes  you  would  come  up  to  the  cabinet."  I  advanced, 
expecting  to  see  some  friend,  and  there  stood  a  Catholic 
priest  with  his  hand  extended  in  blessing.  I  knelt  down, 
and  he  gave  me  the  usual  benediction  and  then  closed  the 
curtains.  "  Did  you  know  the  spirit  ?  "  the  conducter  asked 
me.  I  shook  my  head  ;  and  he  continued,  "  He  was  Father 
Hayes,  a  well-known  priest  in  this  city.  I  suppose  you  are 
a  Catholic  ?  "  I  told  him  "  Yes,"  and  went  back  to  my  seat. 
The  conductor  addressed  me  again.  "  I  think  Father 
Hayes  must  have  come  to  pave  the  way  for  some  of  your 
friends,"  he  said.  "  Here  is  a  spirit  who  says  she  has  come 
for  a  lady  named  '  Florence,'  who  has  just  crossed  the  sea. 
Do  you  answer  to  the  description  ?  "  I  was  about  to  say 
**  Yes,"  when  the  curtains  parted  again  and  my  daughter 
**  Florence  "  ran  across  the  room  and  fell  into  my  arms. 
**  Mother !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  said  I  would  come  with  you 
and  look  after  you — didn't  I  ?  " 

I  looked  at  her.  She  was  exactly  the  same  in  appear- 
ance as  when  she  had  come  to  me  in  England — the  same 
luxuriant  brown  hair  and  features  and  figure,  as  I  had  seen 
under  the  different  mediumships  of  Florence  Cook,  Arthur 


212  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 

Colman,  Charles  Williams  and  William  Eglinton  ;  the  same 
form  which  in  England  had  been  declared  to  be  half-a- 
dozen  different  media  dressed  up  to  represent  my  daughter 
stood  before  me  there  in  New  York,  thousands  of  miles 
across  the  sea,  and  by  the  power  of  a  person  who  did  not 
even  know  who  I  was.  If  I  had  not  been  convinced  before, 
how  could  I  have  helped  being  convinced  then  ? 

**  Florence  "  appeared  as  delighted  as  I  was,  and  kept 
on  kissing  me  and  talking  of  what  had  happened  to  me  on 
board  ship  coming  over,  and  was  evidently  quite  au  fait 
of  all  my  proceedings.  Presently  she  said,  "  There's  another 
friend  of  yours  here,  mother  !  We  came  over  together.  I'll 
go  and  fetch  him."  She  was  going  back  to  the  cabinet 
when  the  conductor  stopped  her.  "You  must  not  return 
this  way,  please.  Any  other  you  like,"  and  she  immedi- 
ately made  a  kind  of  court  curtsey  and  went  down  through 
the  carpel.  I  was  standing  where  *'  Florence  "  had  left 
me,  wondering  what  would  happen  next,  when  she  came 
up  again  a  few  feet  off  from  me,  head  first,  and  smiling 
as  if  she  had  discovered  a  new  game.  She  was  allowed  to 
enter  the  cabinet  this  time,  but  a  moment  afterwards  she 
popped  her  head  out  again,  and  said,  "  Here's  your  friend, 
mother  !  "  and  by  her  side  was  standing  William  Eglinton's 
control,  "  Joey,"  clad  in  his  white  suit,  with  a  white  cap 
drawn  over  his  head.  "  '  Florence  '  and  I  have  come  over 
to  make  new  lines  for  you  here,"  he  said  :  "at  least,  I've 
come  over  to  put  her  in  the  way  of  doing  it,  but  I  can't 
stay  long,  you  know,  because  I  have  to  go  back  to 
'  Willy.' " 

I  really  didn't  care  if  he  stayed  long  or  not.  I  seemed 
to  have  procured  the  last  proof  I  needed  of  the  truth  of 
the  doctrine  I  had  held  so  long,  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  Death,  as  we  understand  it  in  this  world.  Here  were  the 
two  spiritual  beings  (for  believing  in  the  identity  of  whom 
I  had  called  myself  a  credulous  fool  fifty  times  over,  only 
to  believe  in  them  more  deeply  still)  m propria pei-soicem 
New  York,  claiming  me  in  a  land  of  strangers,  who  had  not 
yet  found  out  who  I  was.  I  was  more  deeply  affected  than 
I  had  ever  been  under  such  circumstances  before,  and  more 
deeply  thankful.  "  Florence  "  made  great  friends  with  our 
American  cousins  even  on  her  first  appearance.  Mrs. 
Williams'  conductor  told  me  he  thought  he  had  never 
heard  anything  more  beautiful  than  the  idea  of  the  spirit- 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH. 


213 


child  crossing  the  ocean  to  guard  its  mother  in  a  strange 
country,  and  particularly,  as  he  could  feel  by  her  influence, 
what  a  pure  and  beautiful  spirit  she  was.  When  I  told 
him  she  had  left  this  world  at  ten  days  old,  he  said  that 
accounted  for  it,  but  he  could  see  there  was  nothing  earthly 
about  her. 

I  was  delighted  with  this  seance,  and  hoped  to  sit  with 
Mrs.  Williams  many  times  more,  but  fate  decreed  thai  I 
should  leave  New  York  sooner  than  I  had  anticipated. 
The  perfect  freedom  with  which  it  was  conducted  charmed 
me,  and  the  spirits  seemed  so  familiar  with  the  sitters. 
There  was  no  "Sweet  Spirit,  hear  my  prayer,"  business 
about  it.  No  fear  of  being  detained  or  handled  among  the 
spirits,  and  no  awe,  only  intense  tenderness  on  the  part  of 
their  relations.  It  was  to  this  cause  I  chiefly  attributed 
the  large  number  of  materializations  I  witnessed— y^t^r/y 
having  taken  place  that  evening.  They  spoke  far  more  dis- 
tinctly and  audibly  too  than  those  I  had  seen  in  England, 
but  I  believe  the  dry  atmosphere  of  the  United  States  is 
far  more  favorable  to  the  process  of  materialization.  I  per- 
ceived another  difference.  Although  the  female  spirits 
were  mostly  clad  in  white,  they  wore  dresses  and  not 
simply  drapery,  whilst  the  men  were  invariably  attired  in 
the  clothes  (or  semblances  of  the  clothes)  they  would  have 
worn  had  they  been  still  on  earth.  I  left  Mrs.  Williams' 
rooms,  determined  to  see  as  much  as  I  possibly  could  of 
mediumship  whilst  I  was  in  the  United  States. 


214  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

II.  Mrs.  Eva  Hatch, 

I  WAS  so  disappointed  at  being  hurried  off  to  Boston  be- 
fore I  had  seen  any  more  of  the  New  York  media,  that  I 
took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  attending  a  seance  there. 
A  few  words  I  had  heard  dropped  about  Eva  Hatch  made 
me  resolve  to  visit  her  first.  She  was  one  of  the  Shaker 
sect,  and  I  heard  her  spoken  of  as  a  remarkably  pure  and 
honest  woman,  and  most  reliable  medium.  Her  first  ap- 
pearance quite  gave  me  that  impression.  She  had  a  fair, 
placid  countenance,  full  of  sweetness  and  serenity,  and  a 
plump  matronly  figure.  I  went  incognita,  as  I  had  done 
to  Mrs.  Williams,  and  mingled  unnoticed  with  the  crowd. 
Mrs.  Hatch's  cabinet  was  quite  different  from  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams'. It  was  built  of  planks  like  a  little  cottage,  and  the 
roof  was  pierced  with  numerous  round  holes  for  ventila- 
tion, like  a  pepper-box.  There  was  a  door  in  the  centre, 
with  a  window  on  either  side,  all  three  of  which  were 
shaded  by  dark  curtains.  The  windows,  I  was  told,  were 
for  the  accommodation  of  those  spirits  who  had  not  the 
power  to  materialize  more  than  a  face,  or  head  and  bust. 
Mrs.  Hatch's  conductor  was  a  woman,  who  sat  near  the 
cabinet,  as  in  the  other  case. 

Mrs.  Eva  Hatch  had  not  entered  the  cabinet  five  minutes 
before  she  came  out  again,  under  trance,  with  a  very  old 
lady  with  silver  hair  clinging  to  her  arm,  and  v/alked 
round  the  circle.  As  they  did  so,  the  old  lady  extended 
her  withered  hand,  and  blessed  the  sitters.  She  came 
quite  close  to  each  one  and  was  distinctly  visible  to  all.  I 
was  told  that  this  was  the  spirit  of  Mrs.  Hatch's  mother, 
and  that  it  was  her  regular  custom  to  come  first  and  give 
her  blessing  to  the  seance.  I  had  never  seen  the  spirit  of 
an  aged  person  before,  and  it  was  a  beautiful  sight.  She 
was  the  sweetest  old  lady  too,  very  small  and  fragile  look- 
ing, and  half  reclining  on  her  daughter's  bosom,  but  smil- 
ing serenely  upon  every  one  there.    When  they  had  made 


THERE   IS   NO  DEATH.  215 

the  tour  of  the  room,  Mrs.  Hatch  re-entered  the  cabinet, 
and  did  not  leave  il  again  until  the  sitting  was  concluded. 

There  were  a  great  many  sitters  present,  most  of  whom 
were  old  patrons  of  Mrs.  Hatch,  and  so,  naturally,  their 
friends  came  for  them  first.  It  is  surprising  though,  when 
once  familiarized  with  materialization,  how  little  one  grows 
to  care  to  see  the  spirits  who  come  for  one's  next  door 
neighbor.  They  are  like  a  lot  of  prisoners  let  out,  one  by 
one,  to  see  their  friends  and  relations.  The  few  moments 
they  have  to  spare  are  entirely  devoted  to  home  matters  of 
no  possible  interest  to  the  bystander.  The  first  wonder 
and  possible  shock  at  seeing  the  supposed  dead  return  in 
their  old  likeness  to  greet  those  they  left  on  earth  over, 
one  listens  with  languid  indifference,  and  perhaps  a  little 
impatience  for  one's  own  turn  to  come,  to  the  whispered 
utterances  of  strangers.  Mrs.  Hatch's  "  cabinet  spirits  " 
or  "  controls,"  however,  were  very  interesting.  One,  who 
called  herself  the  "  Spirit  of  Prayer,"  came  and  knelt  down 
in  the  middle  of  the  circle,  and  prayed  with  us.  She  had 
asked  for  the  gas  to  be  extinguished  first,  and  as  she 
prayed  she  became  illuminated  with  flashes  of  light,  in  the 
shape  of  stars  and  crosses,  until  she  was  visible  from  head 
to  foot,  and  we  could  see  her  features  and  dress  as  if  she 
had  been  surrounded  by  electricity. 

Two  more  cabinet  spirits  were  a  negro  and  negress,  who 
appeared  together,  chanting  some  of  their  native  hymns 
and  melodies.  When  I  saw  these  apparitions,  I  thought 
to  myself:  "Here  is  a  good  opportunity  to  discover 
trickery,  if  trickery  there  is."  The  pair  were  undoubtedly 
of  the  negro  race.  There  was  no  mistaking  their  thick 
lips  and  noses  and  yellow-white  eyes,  nor  their  polished 
brown  skins,  which  no  charcoal  can  properly  imitate.  They 
were  negroes  without  doubt ;  but  how  about  the  negro 
bouquet?  Everyone  who  has  mixed  with  colored  people 
in  the  East  or  the  West  knows  what  that  is,  though  it  is 
very  diflicult  to  describe,  being  something  like  warm 
rancid  oil  mingled  with  the  fumes  of  charcoal,  with  a  little 
worse  thrown  in.  "  Now,"  I  thought,  '*  if  these  forms  are 
human,  there  will  be  some  odor  attached  to  them,  and  that 
I  am  determined  to  find  out."  I  caught,  therefore,  at  the 
dress  of  the  young  woman  as  she  passed,  and  asked  her  if 
she  would  kiss  me.  She  left  her  companion  directly,  and 
put  her  arms   (which  were  bare)  round  my  neck,  and  em- 


2i6  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

braced  me  several  times  ;  and  I  can  declare,  on  my  oath, 
that  she  was  as  completely  free  from  anything  like  the 
smell  of  a  colored  woman  as  it  was  possible  for  her  to  be. 
She  felt  as  fresh  and  sweet  and  pure  as  a  little  child. 

Many  other  forms  appeared  and  were  recognized  by  the 
circle,  notably  a  very  handsome  one  who  called  herself  the 
Empress  Josephine ;  but  as  they  could  not  add  a  grain's 
weight  to  my  testimony  I  pass  them  over.  I  had  begun  to 
think  that  "  Florence  "  was  not  going  to  visit  me  that 
evening,  when  the  conductor  of  the  seance  asked  if  there 
was  anybody  in  the  room  who  answered  to  the  name  of 
"Bluebell."  I  must  indulge  in  a  little  retrospect  here,  and 
tell  my  readers  that  ten  years  previous  to  the  time  I  am 
writing  of,  I  had  lost  my  brother-in-law,  Edward  Church, 
under  very  painful  circumstances.  He  had  been  left  an 
orphan  and  in  control  of  his  fortune  at  a  very  early  age, 
and  had  lived  with  my  husband,  Colonel  Ross-Church,  and 
myself.  But  poor  "  Ted  "  had  been  his  own  worst  enemy. 
He  had  possessed  a  most  generous  heart  and  affectionate 
disposition,  but  these  had  led  him  into  extravagances  that 
swallowed  up  his  fortune,  and  then  he  had  taken  to  drink- 
ing and  killed  himself  by  it.  I  and  my  children  had  loved 
him  dearly,  but  all  our  prayers  and  entreaties  had  had  no 
avail,  and  in  the  end  he  had  become  so  bad  that  the  doc- 
tors had  insisted  upon  our  separation.  Poor  "Ted  "  had 
consequently  died  in  exile,  and  this  had  been  a  further 
aggravation  of  our  grief.  For  ten  years  I  had  been  trying 
to  procure  communication  with  him  in  vain,  and  I  liad 
quite  given  up  expecting  to  see  him  again.  Only  once  had 
I  heard  "  Bluebell  "  (his  pet  name  for  me)  gasped  out  by 
an  entranced  clairvoyant,  but  nothing  further  had  come  of 
it.  Now,  as  I  heard  it  for  the  second  time,  from  a  stran- 
ger's lips  in  a  foreign  country,  it  naturally  roused  my 
expectations,  but  I  thought  it  might  be  only  a  message  for 
me  from  "  Ted." 

"  Is  there  anyone  here  who  recognizes  the  name  of 
'  Bluebell '  ?  "  repeated  the  conductor.  "  I  was  once  called 
so  by  a  friend,"  I  said.  "  Someone  is  asking  for  that  name. 
You  had  better  come  up  to  the  cabinet,"  she  replied.  I 
rose  at  once  and  did  as  she  told  me,  but  when  I  reached 
the  curtain  I  encountered  ^'  Florence."  "  My  darling  child," 
I  said,  as  I  embraced  her,  "  why  did  you  ask  for  '  Blue- 
bell '  ?  "     She  did  not  answer  me,  except  by  shaking  her 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  217 

head,  placing  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and  pointing  down- 
wards to  the  carpet.  I  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it. 
I  had  never  known  her  unable  to  articulate  before.  "  What 
is  the  matter,  dear  ?  "  I  said  ;  "  can't  you  speak  to  me  to- 
night?" Still  sl>e  shook  her  head,  and  tapped  my  arm 
with  her  hand,  to  attract  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  she 
was  pointing  vigorously  downwards.  I  looked  down,  too, 
when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  saw  rise  through  the  carpet 
what  looked  to  me  like  the  bald  head  of  a  baby  or  an  old 
man,  and  a  little  figure,  not  tnore  than  three  feet  in  height, 
with  Edward  Church's  features,  but  no  hair  on  its  head, 
came  gradually  into  view,  and  looked  up  in  my  face  with  a 
pitiful,  deprecating  expression,  as  if  he  were  afraid  I  should 
strike  him.  The  face,  however,  was  so  unmistakably 
Ted's,  though  the  figure  was  so  ludicrously  insignificant, 
that  I  could  not  fail  to  recognize  him.  "  Why,  Ted  !  "  I 
exclaimed,  "have  you  come  back  to  see  me  at  last  ?  "  and 
held  out  my  hand.  The  little  figure  seized  it,  tried  to 
convey  it  to  his  lips,  burst  into  tears,  and  sank  down 
through  the  carpet  much  more  rapidly  than  he  had  come 
up. 

I  began  to  cry  too.  It  was  so  pitiful.  With  her  uncle's 
disappearance  "  Florence  "  found  her  tongue.  "  Don't  cry, 
mother,"  she  said  ;  "  poor  Uncle  Ted  is  overcome  at  see- 
ing you.  That's  why  he  couldn't  materialize  better.  He 
was  in  such  a  terrible  hurry.  He'll  look  more  like  himself 
next  time.  I  was  trying  so  hard  to  help  him,  I  didn't  dare 
to  use  up  any  of  the  power  by  speaking.  He'll  be  so  much 
better,  now  he's  seen  you.  You'll  come  here  again,  won't 
you?  "  I  told  her  I  certainly  would,  if  I  could  ;  and,  in- 
deed, I  was  all  anxiety  to  see  my  poor  brother-in-law 
again.  To  prove  how  difficult  it  would  have  been  to  de- 
ceive me  on  this  subject,  I  should  like  to  say  a  little  about 
Edward  Church's  personal  appearance.  He  was  a  very 
remarkable  looking  man — indeed,  I  have  never  seen  any- 
one z  bit  like  him  before  or  after.  He  was  very  small  ; 
not  short  only,  but  small  altogether,  with  tiny  hands  and 
feet,  and  a  little  head.  His  hair  and  eyes  were  of  the 
deepest  black — the  former  parted  in  the  middle,  with  a 
curl  on  either  side,  and  was  naturally  waved.  His  com- 
plexion was  very  dark,  his  features  delicate,  and  he  wore 
a  small  pointed  moustache.  As  a  child  he  had  suffered 
from  an  attack  of  confluent  small-pox.  which  had  deepiy 


ai8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

pitted  his  face,  and  almost  eaten  away  the  tip  of  his  nose. 
Such  a  man  was  not  to  be  easily  imitated,  even  if  anyone 
in  Boston  had  ever  heard  of  his  inconsequential  existence. 
To  me,  though,  he  had  been  a  dear  friend  and  brother, 
before  the  curse  of  Drink  had  seemed  to  change  his  nature, 
and  I  had  always  been  anxious  to  hear  how  he  fared  in 
that  strange  country  whither  he  had  been  forced  to  jour- 
ney, like  all  of  us,  alone.  I  was  very  pleased  then  to  find 
that  business  would  not  interfere  with  my  second  visit  to 
Mrs.  Eva  Hatch,  which  took  place  two  nights  afterward. 
On  this  occasion  "  Florence "  was  one  of  the  first  to 
appear,  and  "  Ted "  came  with  her,  rather  weak  and 
trembling  on  his  second  introduction  to  this  mundane 
sphere,  but  no  longer  bald-headed  nor  under-sized.  He 
was  his  full  height  now,  about  five  feet  seven ;  his  head 
was  covered  with  his  black  crisp  hair,  parted  just  as  he 
used  to  wear  it  while  on  earth  j  in  every  particular  he 
resembled  what  he  used  to  be,  even  down  to  his  clothes. 
I  could  have  sworn  I  had  seen  that  very  suit  of  clothes  ; 
the  little  cut-away  coat  he  always  wore,  with  the  natty  tie 
and  collar,  and  a  dark  blue  velvet  smoking  cap  upon  his 
head,  exactly  like  one  I  remembered  being  in  his  posses- 
sion. "  Florence  "  still  seemed  to  be  acting  as  his  inter- 
preter and  guide.  When  I  said  to  him,  "  Why  !  Ted,  you 
look  quite  like  your  old  self  to-day,"  she  answered,  "  He 
can't  talk  to  you,  mamma,  he  is  weak  still,  and  he  is  so 
thankful  to  meet  you  again.  He  wants  me  to  tell  you  that 
he  has  been  trying  to  communicate  with  you  often,  but  he 
never  could  manage  it  in  England.  He  will  be  so  glad 
when  he  can  talk  freely  to  you."  Whilst  she  was  speak- 
ing, "  Ted  "  kept  on  looking  from  her  to  me  like  a  deaf 
and  dumb  animal  trying  to  understand  what  was  going  on 
in  a  manner  that  was  truly  pitiful.  I  stooped  down  and 
kissed  his  forehead.  The  touch  seemed  to  break  the  spell 
that  hung  over  him.  "  Forgive,''  he  uttered  in  a  choked 
voice.  "  There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  dear,"  I  replied, 
"  except  as  we  all  have  need  to  forgive  each  other.  You 
know  how  we  all  loved  you,  Ted,  and  we  loved  you  to  the 
last  and  grieved  for  you  deeply.  You  remember  the  child- 
ren, and  how  fond  you  were  of  them  and  they  of  you. 
They  often  speak  to  this  day  of  their  poor  Uncle  Ted." 
"  Eva — Ethel,"  he  gasped  out,  naming  my  two  elder 
children.    At  this  juncture  he  seemed  suddenly  to  fail, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  219 

and  became  so  weak  that  "  Florence  "  took  him  back  into 
the  cabinet  again.  No  more  spirits  came  for  me  that 
evening,  but  towards  the  close  of  the  seance  "  Florence  " 
and  "  Ted  "'  appeared  again  together  and  embraced  me 
fondly.  "  Florence  "  said,  "  He's  so  happy  now,  mother  ; 
he  says  he  shall  rest  in  peace  now  that  he  knows  that  you 
have  forgiven  him.  And  he  won't  come  without  his  hair 
again,"  she  added,  laughing.  "  I  hope  he  won't,"  I  an- 
swered, "  for  he  frightened  me."  And  then  they  both 
kissed  me  "  good-night,"  and  retreated  to  the  cabinet,  and 
I  looked  after  them  longingly  and  wished  I  could  go  there 
too. 


220  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

III.  The  Misses  Berry. 

No  one  introduced  me  to  the  Misses  Berry.  I  saw  their 
advertisement  in  the  public  papers  and  went  incognita  to 
their  seance,  as  I  had  done  to  those  of  others.  The  first 
thing  that  struck  me  about  them  was  the  superior  class  of 
patrons  whom  they  drew.  In  the  ladies'  cloak  room,  where 
they  left  their  heavy  wraps  and  umbrellas,  the  conversation 
that  took  place  made  this  sufficiently  evident.  Helen  and 
Gertrude  Berry  were  ])relty,  unaffected,  lady-like  girls  ;  and 
their  conductor,  Mr.  Abrow,  one  of  the  most  courteous 
gentlemen  I  have  ever  met.  The  sisters,  both  highly 
mediumistic,  never  sat  together,  but  on  alternate  nights,  but 
the  one  who  did  not  sit  always  took  a  place  in  the  audience, 
in  order  to  prevent  suspicion  attaching  to  her  absence. 
Gertrude  Berry  had  been  lately  married  to  a  Mr.  Thompson, 
and  on  account  of  her  health  gave  up  her  seances,  soon  after 
I  made  her  aquaintance.  She  was  a  tall,  finely-formed 
young  woman,  with  golden  hair  and  a  beautiful  complexion. 
Her  sister  Helen  was  smaller,  paler  and  more  slightly 
built.  She  had  been  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  gentleman 
who  died  shortly  before  the  time  fixed  for  their  wedding, 
and  his  spirit,  whom  she  called  "  Charley,"  was  the  principal 
control  at  her  seatices,  though  he  never  showed  himself.  I 
found  the  stance  room,  which  was  not  very  large,  crammed 
with  chairs  which  had  all  been  engaged  beforehand,  so  Mr. 
Abrow  fetched  one  from  downstairs  and  placed  it  next  his 
own  for  me,  which  was  the  very  position  I  should  have 
chosen.  I  asked  him  afterwards  how  he  dared  admit  a 
stranger  to  such  close  proximity,  and  he  replied  that  he  was 
a  medium  himself  and  knew  who  he  could  and  who  he 
could  not  trust  at  a  glance.  As  my  professional  duties 
took  me  backwards  and  forwards  to  Boston,  which  was  my 
central  starting-point,  sometimes  giving  me  only  a  day's 
rest  there,  I  was  in  the  habit  afterwards,  when  I  found  I 
should  have  "  a  night  off,"  of  wiring  to  Mr.  Abrow  to  keep 


7 HERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  221 

me  a  seat,  so  difficult  was  it  to  secure  one  unless  it  were 
bespoken.  Altogether  I  sat  five  or  six  times  with  the 
Berry  sisters,  and  wished  I  could  have  sat  fifty  or  sixty 
times  instead,  for  I  never  enjoyed  any  seances  so  much  in 
my  life  before.  The  cabinet  was  formed  of  an  inner  room 
with  a  separate  door,  which  had  to  undergo  the  process  of 
being  sealed  up  by  a  committee  of  strangers  every  evening. 
Strips  of  gummed  paper  were  provided  for  them,  on  which 
they  wrote  their  names  before  affixing  them  across  the  inside 
opening  of  the  door.  On  the  first  night  I  inspected  the 
cabinet  also  as  a  matter  of  principle,  and  gummed  my  paper 
with  "  Mrs.  Richardson  "  written  on  it  across  the  door.  The 
cabinet  contained  only  a  sofa  for  Miss  Helen  Berry  to 
recline  upon.  The  floor  was  covered  with  a  nailed-down 
carpet.  The  door  which  led  into  the  cabinet  was  shaded 
by  two  dark  curtains  hung  with  rings  upon  a  brass  rod. 
The  door  of  the  seatice  room  was  situated  at  a  right  angle 
with  that  of  the  cabinet,  both  opening  upon  a  square  land- 
ing, and,  to  make  "  assurance  doubly  sure,"  the  door  of 
ih& seance  room  was  left  open,  so  that  the  eyes  of  the  sitters 
at  that  end  commanded  a  view,  during  the  entire  sitting, 
of  the  outside  of  the  locked  and  gummed-over  cabinet  door. 
To  make  this  fully  understood,  I  append  a  diagram  of  the 
two  rooms — 


Landing. 

Cabinet. 

1        1 

Stance  room. 

By  the  position  of  these  doors,  it  will  be  seen  how  im- 
possible it  would  have  been  for  anybody  to  leave  or  enter 
the  cabinet  without  being  detected  by  the  sitters,  who  had 
their  faces  turned  towards  the  seance  room  door.     The  first 


322  THERE   IS   NO    DEATH. 

materialization  that  appeared  that  evening  was  a  bride, 
dressed  in  her  bridal  costume ;  and  a  gentleman,  who  was 
occupying  a  chair  in  the  front  row,  and  holding  a  white 
flower  in  his  hand,  immediately  rose,  went  up  to  her,  em- 
braced her,  and  whispered  a  few  words,  then  gave  her  the 
white  flower,  which  she  fastened  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress, 
after  which  he  bowed  slightly  to  the  company,  and,  instead 
of  resuming  his  seat,  left  the  room.  Mr.  Abrow  then  said 
to  me,  "If  you  like,  madam,  you  can  take  that  seat  now," 
and  as  the  scene  had  excited  my  curiosity  I  accepted  his 
offer,  hoping  to  find  some  one  to  tell  me  the  meaning  of  it. 
I  found  myself  next  to  a  very  sweet-looking  lady,  whom  I 
afterwards  knew  personally  as  Mrs.  Seymour.  "Can  you 
tell  me  why  that  gentleman  left  so  suddenly  ?  "  I  asked  her 
in  a  whisper.  "  He  seldom  stays  through  a  seance"  she  re- 
plied ;  "he  is  a  business  man,  and  has  no  time  to  spare, 
but  he  is  here  every  night.  The  lady  you  saw  him  speak  to 
is  his  wife.  She  died  on  her  wedding  day,  eleven  years  ago, 
and  he  has  never  failed  to  meet  her  on  every  opportunity 
since.  He  brings  her  a  white  flower  every  time  he  comes. 
She  appears  always  first,  in  order  that  he  may  be  able  to 
return  to  his  work."  This  story  struck  me  as  very 
interesting,  and  I  always  watched  for  this  gentleman  after- 
wards, and  never  failed  to  see  him  waiting  for  his  bride, 
with  the  white  flower  in  his  hand.  "  Do  you  expect  to  see 
any  friends  to-night?"  I  said  to  my  new  acquaintance. 
"  O  !  yes  !  "  she  replied.  "  I  have  come  to  see  my  daughter 
*  Bell.'  She  died  some  years  ago,  and  I  am  bringing  up  the 
two  little  children  she  left  behind  her.  I  never  do  anything 
for  them  without  consulting  their  mother.  Just  now  I 
have  to  change  their  nurse,  and  I  have  received  several 
excellent  characters  of  others,  and  I  have  brought  them 
here  this  evening  that  'Bell'  may  tell  me  which  to  write 
for.  I  have  the  pattern  for  the  children's  winter  frocks, 
too,"  she  continued,  producing  some  squares  of  woolen 
cloths,  "  and  I  always  like  to  let  '  Bell '  choose  which  she 
likes  best."  This  will  give  my  readers  some  idea  of  how 
much  more  the  American  spiritualists  regard  their  departed 
friends  as  still  forming  part  of  the  home  circle,  and  inter- 
ested in  their  domestic  affairs.  "  Bell "  soon  after  made  her 
appearance,  and  Mrs.  Seymour  brought  her  up  to  me.  She 
was  a  young  woman  of  about  three  or  four  and  twenty, 
and  looked  very  happy  and  smiling.     She  perused   the 


THERE   IS  NO   DEATH.  223 

servants'  characters  as  practically  as  her  mother  might  have 
done,  but  said  she  would  have  none  of  them,  and  Mrs. 
Seymour  was  to  wait  till  she  received  some  more.  The 
right  one  had  not  come  yet.  She  also  looked  at  the 
patterns,  and  indicated  the  one  she  liked  best.  Then, 
as  she  was  about  to  retire,  she  whispered  to  her  mother, 
and  Mrs.  Seymour  said,  to  my  surprise  (for  it  must  be 
remembered  I  had  not  disclosed  my  name  to  her), 
"  Bell  tells  me  she  knows  a  daughter  of  yours  in  the  spirit 
life,  called  '  Florence.'  Is  that  the  case  ?  "  I  answered 
I  had  a  daughter  of  that  name  ;  and  Mrs.  Seymour  added 
"  '  Bell '  says  she  will  be  here  this  evening,  that  she  is  a  very 
pure  and  very  elevated  spirit,  and  they  are  great  friends." 
Very  shortly  after  this,  Mr.  Abrow  remarked,  "  There  is  a 
young  girl  in  the  cabinet  now,  who  says  that  if  her 
mother's  name  is  '  Mrs.  Richardson,'  she  must  have  married 
for  the  third  time  since  she  saw  her  last,  for  she  was  *  Mrs. 
Lean'  then."  At  this  remark  I  laughed  ;  and  Mr.  Abrow 
said,  "Is  she  come  for  you,  madam?  Does  the  cap  fit?  " 
I  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  then  that  I  had  given  a  false 
name  in  order  to  avoid  recognition.  But  the  mention  of 
my  married  name  attracted  no  attention  to  me,  and  was 
only  a  proof  that  it  had  not  been  given  from  any  previous 
knowledge  of  Mr.  Abrow's  concerning  myself.  I  was 
known  in  the  United  States  as  "  Florence  Marryat  "  only, 
and  to  this  day  they  believe  me  to  be  still  "  Mrs.  Ross- 
Church,"  that  being  the  name  under  which  my  first  novels 
were  written.  So  I  recognized  "  Florence  "  at  once  in  the 
trick  that  had  been  played  me,  and  had  risen  to  approach 
the  curtain,  when  she  came  boufiding  out  and  ran  into  my 
arms.  I  don't  think  I  had  ever  seen  her  look  so  charming 
and  girlish  before.  She  looked  like  an  embodiment  of 
sunshine.  She  was  dressed  in  a  low  frock  which  seemed 
manufactured  of  lace  and  muslin,  her  hair  fell  loose  down 
her  back  to  her  knees,  and  her  hands  were  full  of  damask 
roses.  This  was  in  December,  when  hot-house  roses  were 
selling  for  a  dollar  a  piece  in  Boston,  and  she  held,  perhaps, 
twenty.  Their  scent  was  delicious,  and  she  kept  thrusting 
them  under  my  nose,  saying,  "  Smell  my  roses,  mother. 
Don't  you  wish  you  had  my  garden?  We  ha.ve ^e/ds  of 
them  in  the  Summer  Land  !  O  !  how  I  wish  you  were 
there."  "  Shan't  I  come  soon,  darling?  "I  said.  "No! 
not  yet,"  replied  "  Florence."    "  You  have  a  lot  of  work  to 


224  THERE   IS  NO  DEATH. 

do  still.  But  when  you  come,  it  will  be  all  flowers  for  you 
and  me."  I  asked  her  if  she  knew  *'  Bell,"  and  she  said, 
"O  !  yes  !  We  came  together  this  evening."  Then  I  asked 
her  to  come  and  speak  to  "  Bell's "  mother,  and  her 
manner  changed  at  once.  She  became  shy  and  timid,  like 
a  young  girl,  unused  to  strangers,  and  quite  hung  on  my 
arm,  as  I  took  her  up  to  Mrs.  Seymour's  side.  When  she 
had  spoken  a  i&\i  words  to  her  in  a  very  low  voice,  she 
turned  to  me  and  said,  "  I  must  go  now,  because  we  have  a 
great  surprise  for  you  this  evening — a  very  great  surprise." 
I  told  her  I  liked  great  surprises,  when  they  were  pleasant 
ones,  and  "  Florence"  laughed,  and  went  away.  I  found 
that  her  debut  had  created  such  a  sensation  amongst  the 
sitters — it  being  so  unusual  for  a  materialized  spirit  to 
appear  so  strong  and  perfect  on  the  first  occasion  of  using 
a  medium — that  I  felt  compelled  to  give  them  a  little 
explanation  on  the  subject.  And  when  I  told  them  how 
I  had  lost  her  as  a  tiny  infant  of  ten  days  old — how  she 
had  returned  to  me  through  various  media  in  England, 
and  given  such  unmistakable  proofs  of  her  idejitity — and 
how  I,  being  a  stranger  in  their  country,  and  only  landed 
there  a  few  weeks,  had  already  met  her  through  Mrs. 
Williams,  Mrs.  Hatch  and  Miss  Berry — they  said  it  was 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  and  perfect  instances  of 
materiaUzation  they  had  ever  heard  of.  And  when  one 
considers  how  perfect  the  chain  is,  from  the  time  when 
"  Florence  "  first  came  back  to  me  as  a  child,  too  weak  to 
speak,  or  even  to  understand  where  she  was,  to  the  years 
through  which  she  had  grown  and  became  strong  almost 
beneath  my  eyes,  till  she  could  ^^  bound''  (as  I  have 
narrated)  into  my  arms  like  a  human  being,  and  talk  as 
distinctly  as  (and  far  more  sensible  than)  I  did  myself,  I 
think  my  readers  will  acknowledge  also,  that  hers  is  no 
common  story,  and  that  I  have  some  reason  to  believe  in 
Spiritualism. 

Miss  Berry's  cabinet  spirits  were  quite  different  from 
the  common  type.  One  was,  or  rather  had  been,  a 
dancing  girl — not  European,  but  rather  more,  I  fancy,  of 
the  Asiatic  or  Egyptian  type.  Anyway  she  used  to  come 
out  of  the  cabinet — a  lithe  lissom  creature  like  a  panther 
or  a  snake — and  execute  such  twists  and  bounds  and 
pirouettes,  as  would  have  made  her  fortune  on  the 
stage.     Indeed  I  used  to  think  (being  always  on  the  look- 


THERE   IS   NO   DEATH.  225 

out  for  chicanery)  that  no  huvian  creature  who  could 
dance  as  she  did  would  ever  waste  her  talents,  especially 
in  a  smart  country  like  America,  on  an  audience  of  spirit- 
ualists, whose  only  motive  for  meeting  was  to  see  their 
friends,  and  who  would  not  pay  an  extra  cent  to  look  at  a 
"  cabinet  spirit."  Another  one  was  an  Indian  whom  they 
called  "  The  Brave."  He  was  also  a  lithe,  active  creature, 
without  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  upon  his  body,  but 
plenty  of  muscle.  He  appeared  to  like  the  ladies  of  the 
company  very  much,  but  evidently  distrusted  the  men. 
One  stout,  big  man  who  was,  I  fancy,  a  bit  of  a  sceptic, 
wished  to  test  the  "  Brave's"  muscular  power  by  feeling 
his  biceps,  and  was  invited  to  step  in  front  of  the  circle  for 
that  purpose.  He  had  no  sooner  approached  him  than 
the  Indian  seized  him  up  in  his  arms  and  threw  him  right 
over  his  head.  He  did  not  hurt  him,  but  as  the  gentleman 
got  up  again,  he  said,  "  Well  1  I  weigh  200  pounds,  and  I 
didn't  think  any  man  in  the  room  could  have  done  that." 
The  ladies  in  the  circle  mostly  wore  flowers  in  their  bosom 
—bouquets,  after  the  custom  of  American  ladies — and  they 
began,  one  and  all,  to  detach  flowers  from  their  bouquets 
and  give  them  to  the  "  Brave,"  "  to  give  to  his  squaw."  He 
nodded  and  gabbled  some  unintelligible  Sioux  or  Cherokee 
in  reply,  and  went  all  round  the  circle  on  his  knees.  The 
stout  man  had  surmised  that  he  was  painted,  and  his  long, 
straight,  black  hair  was  a  wig.  When  he  came  to  me  I  said, 
"  Brave  !  may  I  try  if  your  hair  is  a  wig  ?  "  He  nodded 
and  said,  **  Pull — pull  ! "  which  I  did,  and  found  that  it 
undoubtedly  grew  on  his  head.  Then  he  took  my  finger 
and  drew  it  across  his  face  several  times  to  show  he  was 
not  painted.  I  had  no  flowers  to  present  him  with,  so  I 
said,  "  Come  here,  Brave,  and  I'll  give  you  something  for 
your  squaw,"  and  when  he  approached  near  enough  I 
kissed  him.  He  chuckled,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
mischief  as  he  ran  chatting  in  his  native  dialect  behind  the 
curtains.  In  another  minute  he  dashed  out  again,  and 
coming  up  to  me  ejaculated,  "  No — give — squaw  !  "  and 
rushed  back,  Mr.  Abrow  laughed  heartily  at  this  incident, 
and  so  did  all  the  sitters,  the  former  declaring  I  had 
entirely  captivated  the  "  Brave."  Presently  the  cabinet 
curtains  were  shaken,  and  after  a  pause  they  parted  slowly, 
and  the  figure  of  an  Indian  squaw  crept  out.  Anything 
more  malignant  and  vicious  than  her  look  I  have  seldom 

15 


i26  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

seen,  Mr.  Abrow  asked  her  who  she  wanted  and  what 
she  wanted,  but  she  would  not  speak.  She  stood  there 
silent,  but  scowling  at  me  from  beneath  the  tangles  of  her 
long  black  hair.  At  last  Mr.  Abrow  said  to  her,  "  If  you 
don't  want  to  speak  to  anyone  in  the  circle  you  must  go 
away,  as  you  are  only  preventing  other  spirits  from 
coming."  The  squaw  backed  behind  the  curtains  again 
rather  sulkily,  but  the  next  time  the  "  Brave  "  appeared  she 
came  with  him,  and  never  did  he  come  again  in  my 
presence  but  what  his  "squaw"  stood  at  the  curtains 
and  watched  his  actions.  Mrs.  Abrow  told  me  that  the 
"Brave"  had  been  in  the  habit  of  manifesting  at  their 
seatices  for  years,  but  that  they  had  never  seen  the  "  squaw  " 
until  that  evening.  Indeed,  I  don't  think  they  were  very 
grateful  to  me  for  having  by  my  rashness  eliminated 
this  new  feature  in  their  evening's  entertainment,  for 
the  "  squaw  "  proved  to  be  a  very  earthly  and  undeveloped 
spirit,  and  subsequently  gave  them  some  trouble,  as  they 
could  not  drive  her  away  when  they  wanted  to  do  so. 
Tovvards  the  close  of  the  evening  Mr.  Abrow  said,  "  There 
is  a  spirit  here  now  who  is  very  anxious  to  show  himself, 
but  it  is  the  first  time  he  has  ever  attempted  to  fully 
materialize,  and  he  is  not  at  all  certain  of  success.  He 
tells  me  there  is  a  lady  in  the  circle  who  has  newly  arrived 
in  America,  and  that  this  lady  years  ago  sang  a  song  by 
his  dying  bed  in  India.  If  she  will  step  up  to  the  cabinet 
now  and  sing  that  song  again  he  will  try  and  shew  himself 
to  her." 

Such  of  my  readers  as  have  perused  "The  story  of  John 
Powles  "  will  recognize  at  once  who  this  was.  I  did,  of 
course,  and  I  confess  that  as  I  rose  to  approach  the  cabinet 
I  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf.  I  had  tried  so  often,  and 
failed  so  often  to  see  this  dear  old  friend  of  mine,  ihat  to 
think  of  meeting  him  now  was  like  a  veritable  resurrection 
from  the  dead.  Think  of  it  !  We  had  parted  in  i860, 
and  this  was  1884 — twenty-four  years  afterwards.  I  had 
been  a  girl  when  we  said  "  Good-bye,"  and  he  went  forth 
on  that  journey  which  seemed  then  so  mysterious  an  one  to 
me.  I  was  a  middle-aged  woman  now,  who  had  passed 
through  so  much  from  which  he  had  been  saved,  that  I  felt 
more  like  his  mother  than  his  friend.  Of  all  my  expe- 
riences this  was  to  me  really  the  most  solemn  and  interest- 
ing.    I  hardly  expected  to  see  more  than  his  face,  but  I 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  227 

walked  up  to  the  cabinet  and  commenced  to  sing  in  a  very 
shaky  voice  the  first  stanza  of  the  old  song  he  was  so  fond 
of  :— 

"  Thou  art  gone  from  my  gaze  like  a  beautiful  dream, 
And  I  seek  thee  in  vain  by  the  meadow  and  stream  ; 
Oft  I  breathe  thy  dear  name  to  the  winds  passing  by, 
But  thy  sweet  voice  is  mute  to  my  bosom's  lone  sigh. 
In  the  stillness  of  night  when  the  stars  mildly  shine, 
O  !  then  oft  my  heart  holds  communion  with  thine. 
For  I  feel  thou  art  near,  and  where'er  I  may  be. 
That  the  Spirit  of  Love  keeps  a  watch  over  me." 

I  had  scarcely  reached  the  finishof  these  lines  when  both 
the  curtains  of  the  cabinet  were  drawn  apart  so  sharply  that 
the  brass  rings  rattled  on  the  rod,  and  John  Powles  stood 
before  me.  Not  a  face,  nor  a  half-formed  figure,  nor  an 
apparition  that  was  afraid  to  pass  into  the  light — \>\x\.John 
Powles  himself,  stalwart  and  living,  who  stepped  out 
briskly  and  took  me  in  his  arms  and  kissed  me  four  or  five 
times,  as  a  long-parted  brother  might  have  done  ;  and 
strange  to  say,  I  didn't  feel  the  least  surprised  at  it,  but 
clung  to  him  like  a  sister.  For  John  Powles  had  never 
once  kissed  me  during  his  lifetime.  Although  we  had  lived 
for  four  years  in  the  closest  intimacy,  often  under  the  same 
roof,  we  had  never  indulged  in  any  familiarities.  I  think 
men  and  women  were  not  so  lax  in  their  manners  then  as 
they  are  now  ;  at  anyrate,  the  only  time  I  had  ever  kissed 
him  was  when  he  lay  dead,  and  my  husband  had  told  me 
to  do  so.  And  yet  it  seemed  quite  natural  on  meeting  him 
again  to  kiss  him  and  cry  over  him.  At  last  I  ventured 
to  say,  "  O,  Powles  !  is  this  really  you  ?  "  "  Look  at  me 
and  see  for  yourself,"  he  answered.  1  looked  up.  It  was 
indeed  himself  He  had  possessed  very  blue  eyes  in  earth 
life,  good  features,  a  florid  complexion,  auburn  hair,  and 
quite  a  golden  beard  and  moustache.  The  eyes  and  hair 
and  features  were  just  the  same,  only  his  complexion  was 
paler,  and  he  wore  no  beard.  "  O  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "where 
is  your  beard  ?  "  "Don't  you  remember  I  cut  it  off  just 
before  I  left  this  world  ?  "  he  said  ;  and  then  I  recalled 
the  fact  that  he  had  done  so  owing  to  a  Government  order 
on  the  subject. 

And  bearing  on  this  question  I  may  mention  what  seems 
a  curious   thing — that  spirits   almost  invariably  return  to 


228  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

earth  the  first  timey/^j/  as  they  lcftil^z.%  though  their 
thoughts  at  the  moment  of  parting  clothed  them  on  their 
return.  This,  however,  was  not  John  Powles' first  attempt 
at  materialization,  although  it  was  his  first  success,  for  it 
may  be  remembered  he  tried  to  show  himself  through  Miss 
Showers,  and  then  he  had  a  beard.  However,  when  I  saw 
him  through  Miss  Berry,  he  had  none,  nor  did  he  resume 
it  during  my  stay  in  America.  When  we  had  got  over  the 
excitement  of  meeting,  he  began  to  speak  to  me  of  my 
children,  especially  of  the  three  who  were  born  before  his 
death,  and  of  whom  he  had  been  very  fond.  He  spoke  of 
them  all  by  name,  and  seemed  quite  interested  in  their 
prospects  and  affairs.  But  when  I  began  to  speak  of  other 
things  he  stopped  me.  "  I  know  it  all,"  he  said,  "  I  have 
been  with  you  in  spirit  through  all  your  trials,  and  I  can 
never  feel  the  slightest  interest  in,  or  affection  for,  those 
who  caused  them.  My  poor  friend,  you  have  indeed  had 
your  purgatory  upon  earth."  "  But  tell  me  of  yourself, 
dear  Powles  !  Are  you  quite  happy  ?  "  I  asked  him.  He 
paused  a  moment  and  then  replied,  "  Quite  happy,  waiting 
for  you."  "  Surely  you  are  not  suffering  still  ?  "  I  said, 
"  after  all  these  years  ?  "  "  My  dear  Florence,"  he  answered, 
"  it  takes  more  than  a  few  years  to  expiate  a  life  of  sin. 
But  I  am  happier  than  I  was,  and  every  year  the  burden 
is  lighter,  and  coming  back  to  you  will  help  me  so  much." 
As  he  was  speaking  to  me  the  curtain  opened  again, 
and  there  stood  my  brother-in-law,  Edward  Church,  not 
looking  down-spirited  and  miserable,  as  he  had  done  at 
Mrs.  Eva  Hatch's,  but  bright  and  smiling,  and  dressed  in 
evening  clothes,  as  also  I  perceived,  when  I  had  time  to 
think  of  it,  was  John  Powles.  I  didn't  know  which  to  talk 
to  first,  but  kept  turning  from  one  to  the  other  in  a  dazed 
manner.  John  Powles  was  telling  me  that  he  was  pre- 
paring my  house  for  me  in  the  Summer  Land,  and  would 
come  to  take  me  over  to  it  when  I  died,  when  "Ted" 
interrupted  him.  "  That  ought  to  have  been  7ny  work,  Blue- 
bell," he  said,  "  only  Powles  had  anticipated  me."  "  I  wish 
I  could  go  back  with  you  both  at  once,  I  am  sick  of  this 
world,"  I  replied.  "Ted"  threw  his  arms  round  me  and 
strained  me  to  his  breast.  "  O  !  it  is  so  hard  to  part  again. 
How  I  wish  I  could  carry  you  away  in  my  arms  to  the 
Summer  Land  !  I  should  have  nothing  left  to  wish  for 
then."  "  You  don't  want  to   come  back   then,  Ted  ? "  I 


THERE  IS  XO   DEATH.  229 

asked  him.  ''  Want  to  come  back,''  he  said  with  a  shudder ; 
"  not  for  anything  !  Why,  Bluebell,  death  is  like  an  oper- 
ation which  you  must  inevitably  undergo,  but  which  you 
fear  because  you  know  so  little  about  it.  Well,  with  me 
the  operation  s  over.  I  know  the  worst,  and  every  day 
makes  the  term  of  punishment  shorter.  I  am  thankful  I 
left  the  earth  so  soon."  "  You  look  just  like  your  old  self, 
Ted,"  I  said  ;  "  the  same  little  curls  and  scrubby  little 
moustache."  "Pull  them,"  he  answered  gaily.  "  Don't  go 
away,  Bluebell,  and  say  they  were  false  and  I  was  Miss 
Berry  dressed  up.  Feel  my  biceps,"  he  continued,  throw- 
ing up  his  arm  as  men  do,  "  and  feel  my  heart,"  placing 
my  hand  above  it,  "  feel  how  it  is  beatiiig  for  my  sister 
Bluebell." 

I  said  to  John  Powles,  "I  hardly  know  you  in  evening 
costume.  I  never  saw  you  in  it  before  "  (which  was  true, 
as  all  our  acquaintance  had  taken  place  in  India,  where 
the  officers  are  never  allowed  to  appear  in  anything  but 
uniform,  especially  in  the  evenings).  "  I  wish,"  I  continued, 
"  that  you  would  come  next  time  in  uniform."  "  I  will  try," 
he  replied,  and  then  their  time  was  up  for  that  occasion, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  go. 

A  comical  thing  occurred  on  my  second  visit  to  the 
Berrys.  Of  course  I  was  all  eagerness  to  see  my  brother- 
in-law  and  "  Powles  "  again,  and  when  I  was  called  up  to 
the  cabinet  and  saw  a  slim,  dark,  young  man  standing  there, 
I  took  him  at  once  for  "  Ted,"  and,  without  looking  at  him, 
was  just  about  to  kiss  him,  when  he  drew  backwards  and 
said,  "  I  am  not  *  Edward  1'  I  am  his  friend  '  Joseph,'  to 
whom  he  has  given  permission  to  make  your  acquaintance." 
I  then  perceived  that  "  Joseph  "  was  very  different  from 
"  Ted,"  taller  and  better  looking,  with  a  Jewish  cast  of 
countenance.  I  stammered  and  apologized,  and  felt  as 
awkward  as  if  I  had  nearly  kissed  a  mortal  man  by  mis- 
take. "Joseph  "  smiled  as  if  it  were  of  very  little  con- 
sequence. He  said  he  had  never  met  "  Ted  "  on  earth, 
but  they  were  close  friends  in  the  spirit  world,  and  "  Ted  " 
had  talked  so  much  to  him  of  me,  that  he  had  become  very 
anxious  to  see  me,  and  speak  to  me.  He  was  a  very 
elegant  looking  young  man,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  have 
very  much  to  say  for  himself,  and  he  gave  me  the  im- 
pression that  he  had  been  a  "masher  "  whilst  here  below, 
and  had  not  quite  shaken  off  the  reraerabrance  in  the  spirit 
world. 


230  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

There  was  one  spirit  who  often  made  her  appearance  at 
these  sittings  and  greatly  interested  me.  This  was  a 
mother  with  her  infant  of  a  few  weeks  old.  The  lady  was 
sweet  and  gentle  looking,  but  it  was  the  baby  that  so  im- 
pressed me — a  baby  that  never  whined  nor  squalled,  nor 
turned  red  in  the  face,  and  yet  was  made  of  neither  wax 
nor  wood,  but  was  palpably  living  and  breathing.  I  used 
always  to  go  up  to  the  cabinet  when  this  spirit  came,  and 
ask  her  to  let  me  feel  the  little  baby.  It  was  a  tiny  crea- 
ture, with  a  waxen-looking  face,  and  she  always  carried  it 
enveloped  in  a  full  net  veil,  yet  when  I  touched  its  hand, 
the  little  fingers  tightened  round  mine  in  baby  fashion,  as 
it  tried  to  convey  them  to  its  mouth.  I  had  seen  several 
spirit  children  materialized  before,  but  never  such  a  young 
infant  as  this.  The  mother  told  me  she  had  passed  away 
in  child-birth,  and  the  baby  had  gone  with  her.  She  had 
been  a  friend  of  the  Misses  Berry,  and  came  to  them  for 
that  reason. 

On  Christmas  Eve  I  happened  to  be  in  Boston,  and 
disengaged,  and  as  I  found  it  was  a  custom  of  the  American 
Spiritualists  to  hold  meetings  on  that  anniversary  for 
the  purpose  of  seeing  their  spirit  friends,  I  engaged  a 
seat  for  the  occasion,  I  arrived  some  time  before  the 
seance  commenced,  and  next  to  me  was  seated  a  gentleman, 
rather  roughly  dressed,  who  was  eyeing  everything  about 
him  with  the  greatest  attention.  Presently  he  turned  to 
me  and  said,  rather  sheepishly,  "  Do  you  believe  in  this 
sort  of  thing  ?  "  "I  do,"  I  replied,  "  and  I  have  believed 
in  it  for  the  last  fifteen  years."  "  Have  you  ever  seen  any- 
body whom  you  recognized  ?  "  he  continued.  "  Plenty," 
I  said.  Then  he  edged  a  little  nearer  to  me,  and  lowered  his 
voice.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  commenced,  "that  I  have  ridden 
on  horseback  forty  miles  through  the  snow  to-day  to  be  pre- 
sent at  this  meeting,  because  my  old  mother  sent  me  a 
message  that  she  would  meet  me  here  !  I  don't  believe  in 
it,  you  know.  I've  never  been  at  a  seance  before,  and  I  feel 
as  if  I  was  making  a  great  fool  of  myself  now,  but  I  couldn't 
neglect  my  poor  old  mother's  message,  whatever  came 
of  it."  "  Of  course  not,"  I  answered,  "  and  I  hope  your 
trouble  will  be  rewarded."  I  had  not  much  faith  in  my 
own  words,  though,  because  I  had  seen  people  dis- 
appointed again  and  again  over  their  first  seance,  from 
either  the  spirits  of  their  friends  being  too  weak  to  material- 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  231 

ize,  or  from  too  many  trying  to  draw  power  at  once,  and 
so  neutralizing  the  effect  on  all.  My  bridegroom  friend 
was  all  ready  on  that  occasion  with  his  white  flowers  in 
his  hand  and  I  ventured  to  address  him  and  tell  him  how 
very  beautiful  I  considered  his  wife's  fidelity  and  his  own. 
He  seemed  pleased  at  my  notice,  and  began  to  talk  quite 
freely  about  her.  He  told  me  she  had  returned  to  him 
before  her  body  was  buried,  and  had  been  with  him  ever 
since.  "  She  is  so  really  and  truly  my  wife,''  he  said,  "as 
I  received  her  at  the  altar,  that  I  could  no  more  marry 
again  than  I  could  if  she  were  living  in  my  house."  When 
the  seance  commenced  she  appeared  first  as  usual,  and  her 
husband  brought  her  up  to  my  side.  "  This  is  Miss  Florence 
Marryat,  dear,"  he  said  (for  by  this  time  I  had  laid  aside 
my  incognita  with  the  Berrys).  "  You  know  her  name, 
don't  you  ?  "  "  O  !  yes,"  she  answered,  as  she  gave  me  her 
hand,  "  I  know  you  quite  well.  I  used  to  read  your  books." 
Her  face  was  covered  with  her  bridal  veil,  and  her  husband 
turned  it  back  that  I  might  see  her.  She  was  a  very  pretty 
girl  of  perhaps  twenty — quite  a  gipsy,  with  large  dark  eyes 
and  dark  curling  hair,  and  a  brown  complexion.  "  She  has 
not  altered  one  bit  since  the  day  we  were  married,"  said 
her  husband,  looking  fondly  at  her,  "  whilst  I  have  grown 
into  an  old  man."  She  put  up  her  hand  and  stroked  his 
cheek.  "  We  shall  be  young  together  some  day,"  she  said. 
Then  he  asked  her  if  she  was  not  going  to  kiss  me,  and 
she  held  up  her  face  to  mine  like  a  child,  and  he  dropped 
the  veil  over  her  again  and  led  her  away.  The  very  next 
spirit  that  appeared  was  my  rough  friend's  mother,  and  his 
astonishment  and  emotion  at  seeing  her  were  very  unmis- 
takeable.  When  first  he  went  up  to  the  cabinet  and  saw 
her  his  head  drooped,  and  his  shoulders  shook  with  the 
sobs  he  could  not  repress.  After  a  while  he  became  calmer, 
and  talked  to  her,  and  then  I  saw  him  also  bringing  her  up 
to  me.  "  I  must  bring  my  mother  to  you,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  may  see  she  has  really  come  back  to  me."  I  rose,  and 
the  old  lady  shook  hands  with  me.  She  must  have  been,  at 
the  least,  seventy  years  old,  and  was  a  most  perfect  spe- 
cimen of  old  age.  Her  face  was  like  wax,  and  her  hair  like 
silver  ;  but  every  wrinkle  was  distinct,  and  her  hands  were 
lined  with  blue  veins.  She  had  lost  her  teeth,  and  mumbled 
somewhat  in  speaking,  and  her  son  said,  "She  is  afraid 
you  will  not  understand  what  she  says  ;  but  she  wants  you 


232  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

to  know  that  she  will  be  quite  happy  if  her  return  will 
make  nie  believe  in  a  futureexister.ee."  "And  will  it?" 
I  asked.  He  looked  at  his  mother.  "  I  don't  understand 
it,"  he  replied.  "It seems  too  marvellous  to  be  true  ;  but 
how  can  I  disbelieve  it,  when //^;-<?  5//^  is  V  And  his  words 
were  so  much  the  echo  of  my  own  grounds  for  belief,  that 
I  quite  sympathized  with  them.  "John  Powles,"  and 
"  Ted,"  and  "  Florence,"  all  came  to  see  me  that  evening  ; 
and  when  I  bid  "  Florence  "  "  good-bye  "  she  said,  "  Oh,  it 
isn't  *  good-bye  '  yet,  mother  !  I'm  coming  again,  before 
you  go."  Presently  something  that  was  the  very  farthest 
thing  from  my  mind — that  had,  indeed,  never  entered  it — 
happened  to  me.  I  was  told  that  a  young  lady  wanted  to 
speak  to  me,  and  on  going  up  to  the  cabinet  I  recognized 
a  girl  whom  I  knew  by  sight,  but  had  never  spoken  to — one 
of  a  large  family  of  children,  living  in  the  same  terrace  in 
London  as  myself,  and  who  had  died  of  malignant  scarlet 
fever  about  a  year  before.  "  Mrs.  Lean,"  she  said,  hurriedly, 

noting  my  surprise,  "  don't  you  know  me?  I  am  May ." 

"  Yes,  I  do  recognize  you,  my  dear  child,"  I  replied  ;  "  but 
what  makes  you  come  to  me  ?  "  "  Minnie  and  Katie  are 
so  unhappy  about  me,"  she  said.  "  They  do  not  under- 
stand. They  think  I  have  gone  away.  They  do  not  know 
what  death  is — that  it  is  only  like  going  into  the  next  room, 
and  shutting  the  door."  "  And  what  can  I  do,  May  ?  "  I 
asked  her.  "Tell  them  you  have  seen  me,  Mrs.  Lean.  Say 
I  am  alive — more  alive  than  they  are  ;  that  if  they  sit  for 
me,  I  will  come  to  them  and  tell  them  so  much  they  know 
nothing  of  now."  ''  But  where  are  your  sisters  ?  "  I  said. 
She  looked  puzzled.  "  I  don't  know.  I  can't  say  the  place  ; 
but  you  will  meet  them  soon,  and  you  will  tell  them."  "  If 
I  meet  them,  I  certainly  will  tell  them,"  I  said  ;  but  I  had 
not  the  least  idea  at  that  moment  where  the  other  girls 
might  be.  Four  months  later,  however,  when  I  was  stay- 
ing in  London,  Ontario,  they  burst  unexpectedly  into  my 
hotel  room,  having  driven  over  (I  forget  how  many  miles) 
to  see  me  play.  Naturally  I  kept  my  promise  ;  but  though 
they  cried  when  "  May  "  was  alluded  to,  they  evidently 
could  not  believe  my  story  of  having  seen  her,  and  so,  I 
suppose,  the  poor  little  girl's  wish  remains  ungratified.  I 
think  the  worst  purgatory  in  the  next  world  must  be  to  find 
how  comfortably  our  friends  get  on  without  us  in  this.  As 
a  rule,  I  did  not  fake  much  interest  in  the  spirits  that  did 


THERE   IS  NO  DEATH.  233 

not  come  for  me  ;  but  there  was  one  who  appeared  several 
times  with  the  Berrys,  and  seemed  quite  like  an  old  friend 
to  me.  This  was  "  John  Brown,"  not  her  Majesty's  "  John 
Brown,"  but  the  hero  of  the  song — 

"  Hang  John  Brown  on  a  sour  apple  tree. 
But  his  soul  goes  touting  around. 
Glory  I  glory  I  Halleluia  I 
For  his  soul  goes  touting  around." 

When  I  used  to  hear  this  song  sung  with  much  shouting 
and  some  profanity  in  England,  I  imagined  (and  I  fancy 
most  people  did)  that  it  was  a  comic  song  in  America.  But 
it  was  no  such  thing.  It  was  a  patriotic  song,  and  the 
motive  is  (however  comically  put)  to  give  glory  to  God, 
\.\\a.\.,  although  they  may  hang  "  John  Brown  "  on  a  sour 
apple  tree,  his  soul  will  yet  "go  touting  around."  So,  rightly 
or  wrongly,  it  was  explained  to  me.  "John  Brown"  is  a 
patriotic  hero  in  America,  and  when  he  appeared,  the  whole 
room  crowded  round  to  see  him.  He  was  a  short  man, 
with  a  singularly  benevolent  countenance,  iron  grey  hair, 
mutton-chop  whiskers,  and  deep  china  blue  eyes.  A  kind 
of  man,  as  he  appeared  to  me,  made  for  deeds  of  love 
rather  than  heroism,  but  from  all  accounts  he  was  both 
kind  and  heroic.  A  gentleman  present  on  Christmas  eve 
pushed  forward  eagerly  to  see  the  materialization,  and 
called  out,  "  Aye  !  that's  him — that's  my  old  friend — that's 
'John  Brown' — the  best  man  that  ever  trod  this  earth." 
Before  this  evening's  seance  was  concluded  Mr.  Abrow  said, 
"  There  is  a  little  lady  in  the  cabinet  at  present  who  an- 
nounces herself  as  a  very  high  personage.  She  says  she  is 
the  '  Princess  Gertrude.' "  "  What  did  you  say,  Mr. 
Abrow  ? "  I  exclaimed,  unable  to  believe  my  own  ears. 
"  *  The  Princess  Gertie,'  mother,"  said  "  Florence,"  popping 
her  head  out  of  the  curtains.  "  You've  met  her  before  in 
England,  you  know."  I  went  up  to  the  cabinet,  the  cur- 
tains divided,  there  stood  my  daughter  "  Florence "  as 
usual,  but  holding  in  front  of  her  a  little  child  of  about 
seven  years  old.  I  knelt  down  before  this  spirit  of  my  own 
creation.  She  was  a  fragile-looking  little  creature,  very 
fair  and  pale,  with  large  grey  eyes  and  brown  hair  lying 
over  her  forehead.  She  looked  like  a  lily  with  her  little 
white  hands  folded  meekly  in  front  of  her.  "  Are  you  my 


234  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.\ 

little  Gertie,  darling  ? "  I  said.  "  I  am  the  '  Princess 
Gertie,' "  she  replied,  "  and  '  Florence  '  says  you  are  my 
mother."  "And  are  you  glad  to  see  me,  Gertie  ?  "  I  asked. 
She  looked  up  at  her  sister,  who  immediately  prompted 
her.  "Say,  'yes,  mother,'  Gertie."  "Yes!  mother,"  re- 
peated the  little  one,  like  a  parrot,  "  Will  you  come  to  me, 
darling  ?  "  I  said.  "  May  I  take  you  in  my  arms  ?  "  "  Not 
this  evening,  mother,"  whispered  '  Florence,'  "  you  couldn't. 
She  is  attached  to  me.  We  are  tied  together.  You  couldn't 
separate  us.  Next  time,  perhaps,  the  '  Princess  '  will  be 
stronger,  and  able  to  talk  more.  I  will  take  her  back 
now."  "But  where  is  '  Yonnie '  ?  "  I  asked,  and  '^  Flo- 
rence "  laughed.  "  Couldn't  manage  two  of  them  at  once," 
she  said.  "  '  Yonnie  '  shall  come  another  day,''  and  1 
returned  to  my  seat,  more  mystified  than  usual. 

I  alluded  to  the  "  Princess  Gertie  "  in  my  account  of  the 
inediumship  of  Bessie  Fitzgerald,  and  said  that  my  allusion 
would  find  its  signification  further  on.  At  that  time  I  had 
hardly  beheved  it  could  be  true  that  the  infants  who  had 
been  born  prematurely  and  never  breathed  in  this  world 
should  be  living,  sentient  spirits  to  meet  me  in  the  next,  and 
half  thought  some  grown  spirit  must  be  tricking  me  for  its 
own  pleasure.  But  here,  in  this  strange  land,  where  my 
blighted  babies  had  never  been  mentioned  or  thought  of, 
to  meet  the  "  Princess  Gertie  "  here,  calling  herself  by  her 
own  name,  and  brought  by  her  sister  "  Florence,"  set  the 
matter  beyond  a  doubt.  It  recalled  to  my  mind  how  once, 
long  before,  when  "  Aimee  "  (Mr.  Arthur  Colman's  guide), 
on  being  questioned  as  to  her  occupation  in  the  spirit 
spheres,  had  said  she  was  "  a  little  nurse  maid,"  and  that 
"  Florence  "  was  one  too,  my  daughter  had  added,  "  Yes  ! 
I'm  mamma's  nurse  maid.  I  have  enough  to  do  to  look 
after  her  babies.  She  just  looked  at  me,  and  '  tossed  '  me 
back  into  the  spirit  world,  and  she's  been  '  tossing '  babies 
after  me  ever  since." 

I  had  struck  up  a  pleasant  acquaintanceship  with  Mrs. 
Seymour,  "  Bell's  "  mother,  by  that  time,  and  when  I 
went  back  to  my  seat  and  told  her  what  had  occurred, 
she  said  to  me,  "  I  wish  you  would  share  the  expenses 
of  a  private  seance  with  me  here.  We  can  have  one 
all  to  ourselves  for  ten  dollars  ( two  pounds ),  and  it 
would  be  so  charming  to  have  an  afternoon  quite  alone 
with  our  children  and  friends,"     I  agreed  readily,  and  we 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  135 

made  arrangements  with  Mr.  Abrow  before  we  left  that 
evening,  to  have  a  private  sitting  on  the  afternoon  follow- 
ing Christmas  Day,  when  no  one  was  to  be  admitted 
except  our  two  selves.  When  we  met  there  the  seance 
room  was  lighted  with  gas  as  for  the  evening,  but  we  pre- 
ferred to  close  the  door.  Helen  Berry  was  the  medium, 
and  Mr.  Abrow  only  sat  with  us.  The  rows  of  chairs  looked 
very  empty  without  any  sitters,  but  we  established  our- 
selves on  those  which  faced  the  cabinet  in  the  front  row. 
The  first  thing  which  happened  was  the  advent  of  the 
"  Squaw,"  looking  as  malignant  and  vicious  as  ever,  who 
crept  in  in  her  dirty  blanket,  with  her  black  hair  hanging 
over  her  face,  and  deliberately  took  a  seat  at  the  further 
end  of  the  room.  Mr.  Abrow  was  unmistakably  annoyed 
at  the  occurrence.  He  particularly  disliked  the  influence 
of  this  spirit,  which  he  considered  had  a  bad  effect  on  ihe 
seance.  He  first  asked  her  why  she  had  come,  and  told 
her  her  "  Brave  "  was  not  coming,  and  to  go  back  to 
him.  Then  he  tried  severity,  and  ordered  her  to  leave  the 
seance,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  She  kept  her  seat  with  per- 
sistent obstinacy,  and  showed  no  signs  of  "  budging."  I 
thought  I  would  try  what  kindness  would  do  for  her,  and  ap- 
proached her  with  that  intention,  but  she  looked  so  fierce 
and  threatening,  that  Mr.  Abrow  begged  me  not  to  go  near 
her,  for  fear  she  should  do  me  some  harm.  So  I  left  her 
alone,  and  she  kept  her  seat  through  the  whole  of  the 
seance^  evidently  with  an  eye  upon  me,  and  distrusting  my 
behavior  when  removed  from  the  criticism  of  the  public. 
Her  presence,  however,  seemed  to  make  no  difference  to 
our  spirit  friends.  They  trooped  out  of  the  cabinet  one 
after  another,  until  we  had  Mrs.  Seymour's  brother  and  her 
daughter  "Bell,"  v/ho  brought  little  "Jimmie"  (a  little 
son  who  had  gone  home  before  herself)  with  her,  and 
"  Florence,"  "  Ted,"  and  "  John  Powles,"  all  so  happy  and 
strong  and  talkative,  that  I  told  Mrs.  Seymour  we  only 
wanted  a  tea-table  to  think  we  were  holding  an  "  At  Home." 
Last,  but  not  least  (at  all  events  in  her  own  estimation) 
came  the  "  Princess  Gertie."  Mr.  Abrow  tried  to  make 
friends  with  her,  but  she  repulsed  his  advances  vehemently. 
"  I  don't  like  you,  Mr.  Mans,"  she  kept  on  saying,  "  you's 
nasty.  I  don't  like  any  mans.  They's  all  nasty."  When 
I  told  her  she  was  very  rude,  and  Mr.  Abrow  was  a  very 
kind  gentleman  and  loved  little  children,  she  still  persisted 


236  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

she  wouldn't  speak  *'  to  no  mans."  She  came  quite  alone 
on  this  occasion,  and  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  carried 
her  across  to  Mrs.  Seymour.  She  was  a  feather  weight.  I 
felt  as  if  I  had  nothing  in  my  arms.  I  said  to  Mrs.  Sey- 
mour, "  Please  tell  me  what  this  child  is  like.  I  am  so 
afraid  of  my  senses  deceiving  me  that  I  cannot  trust  my- 
self." Mrs.  Seymour  looked  at  her  and  answered,  "  She 
has  a  broad  forehead,  with  dark  brown  hair  cut  across  it, 
and  falling  straight  to  her  shoulders  on  eitlier  side.  Her 
eyes  are  a  greyish  blue,  large  and  heavy  lidded,  her  nose 
is  short,  and  her  mouth  decided  for  such  a  child." 

This  testimony,  given  by  a  stranger,  of  the  apparition 
of  a  child  that  had  never  lived,  was  an  exact  description 
(of  course  in  embryo)  of  her  father,  Colonel  Lean,  who 
had  never  set  foot  in  America.  Perhaps  this  is  as  good  a 
proof  of  identity  as  I  have  given  yet.  Our  private  seance 
lasted  for  two  hours,  and  although  the  different  spirits  kept 
on  entering  the  cabinet  at  intervals  to  gain  more  power, 
they  were  all  with  us  on  and  off  during  the  entire  time. 
The  last  pleasant  thing  I  saw  was  my  dear  "  Florence  "  mak- 
ing the  "  Princess  "  kiss  her  hand  in  farewell  to  me,  and  the 
only  unpleasant  one,  the  sight  of  the  sulky  "  Squaw  " 
creeping  in  after  them  with  the  evident  conviction  that  her 
afternoon  had  been  wasted. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  237 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

IV.    The  Doctor, 

I  WONDER  if  it  has  struck  any  of  my  readers  as  strange 
that,  during  all  these  manifestations  in  England  and  Amer- 
ica, I  had  never  seen  the  form,  nor  heard  the  voice,  of  my 
late  father.  Captain  Marryat.  Surely  if  these  various 
media  lived  by  trickery  and  falsehood,  and  wished  suc- 
cessfully to  deceive  me,  some  of  them  would  have  thought 
of  trying  to  represent  a  man  so  well  known,  and  whose 
appearance  was  so  familiar.  Other  celebrated  men  and 
women  have  come  back  and  been  recognized  from  their 
portraits  only,  but,  though  I  have  sat  at  numbers  of  seafices 
givQxxfor  vie  alone,  and  at  which  I  have  been  the  principal 
person,  my  father  has  never  reappeared  at  any.  Especially, 
if  these  manifestations  are  all  fraud,  might  this  have  been 
expected  in  America.  Captain  Marryat's  name  is  still  "  a 
household  word  "  amongst  the  Americans^  and  his  works 
largely  read  and  appreciated,  and  wherever  I  appeared 
amongst  them  I  was  cordially  welcomed  on  that  account. 
When  once  I  had  acknowledged  my  identity  and  my  views 
on  Spiritualism,  every  medium  in  Boston  and  New  York  had 
ample  time  to  get  up  an  imitation  of  my  father  for  my  benefit 
had  they  desired  to  do  so.  But  never  has  he  appeared  to  me ; 
never  have  I  been  told  that  he  was  present.  Twice  only 
in  the  whole  course  of  my  experience  have  I  received  the 
slightest  sign  from  him,  and  on  those  occasions  he  sent  me 
a  message — once  through  Mr,  Fletcher  (as  I  have  related), 
and  once  through  his  grandson  and  my  son,  Frank  Marryat. 
That  time  he  told  me  he  should  never  appear  to  me  and  I 
need  never  expect  him.  But  since  the  American  media 
knew  nothing  of  this  strictly  private  communication,  and 
I  had  seen,  before  I  parted  with  them,  seventeen  of  my 
friends  and  relations,  none  of  whom  (except  "  Florence," 
"  Powles,"  and  "  Emily,")  I  had  ever  seen  in  England,  it 
is  at  the  least  strange,  considering  his  popularity  (and 
granted  their  chicanery)  that  Captain  Marryat  was  not 
aniongst  them. 


238  THERE   IS   NO  DEATH. 

As  soon  as  I  became  known  at  the  Berry's  seances 
several  people  introduced  themselves  to  me,  and  amongst 
others  Mrs,  Isabella  Beecher  Hooker,  the  sister  of 
Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  and  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
She  was  delighted  to  find  me  so  interested  in  Spirilualism, 
and  anxious  I  should  sit  with  a  friend  of  her's,  a  great 
medium  whose  name  became  so  rubbed  out  in  my  pencil 
notes,  that  I  am  not  sure  if  it  was  Doctor  Carter,  or  Car- 
teret, and  therefore  I  shall  speak  of  him  here  as  simply 
*'  the  doctor."  The  doctor  was  bound  to  start  for  Wash- 
ington the  following  afternoon,  so  Mrs.  Hooker  asked  me 
to  breakfast  with  her  the  next  morning,  by  which  time  she 
would  have  found  out  if  he  could  spare  us  an  hour  before 
he  set  out  on  his  journey.  When  I  arrived  at  her  house  I 
heard  that  he  had  very  obligingly  offered  to  give  me  a 
complimentary  seance  at  eleven  o'clock,  so,  as  soon  as  we 
had  finished  breakfast,  we  set  out  for  his  abode.  I  found 
the  doctor  was  quite  a  young  man,  and  professed  himself 
perfectly  ignorant  on  the  subject  of  Spiritualism.  He  said 
to  me,  "  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  profess  to  know  ^vhat  or 
who  it  is  that  appears  to  my  sitters  whilst  I  am  asleep.  I 
know  nothing  of  what  goes  on,  except  from  hearsay.  I 
don't  know  whether  the  forms  that  appear  are  spirits,  or 
transformations,  or  materializations.  You  must  judge  of 
that  for  yourself.  There  is  one  peculiarity  in  my  seances. 
They  take  place  in  utter  darkness.  When  the  apparitions 
(or  whatever  you  choose  to  call  them)  appear,  they  must 
bring  their  own  lights  or  you  won't  see  them,  I  have  no 
conductor  to  my  seances.  If  whatever  comes  can't 
announce  itself  it  must  remain  unknown.  But  I  think  you 
will  find  that,  as  a  rule,  they  can  shift  for  themselves.  This 
is  my  siance  room." 

As  he  spoke  he  led  us  into  an  unfurnished  bedroom,  I 
say  bedroom,  because  it  was  provided  with  the  dressing 
closet  fitted  with  pegs,  usual  to  all  bedrooms  in  America. 
This  closet  the  doctor  used  as  his  cabinet.  The  doot'  was 
left  open,  and  there  was  no  curtain  hung  before  it.  The 
darkness  he  sat  in  rendered  that  unnecessary.  The  bed- 
room was  darkened  by  two  frames,  covered  with  black 
American  cloth,  which  fitted  into  the  windows.  The  doc- 
tor, having  locked  the  bedroom  door,  delivered  the  key  to 
me.  He  then  requested  us  to  go  and  sit  for  a  few  minutes 
in  the  cabinet  to  throw  our  influence  about  it.     As  we  did 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  239 

SO  we  naturally  examined  it.  It  was  only  a  large  cupboard. 
It  had  no  window  and  no  door,  except  that  which  led  into 
the  room,  and  no  furniture  except  a  cane-bottomed  chair. 
When  we  returned  to  the  seance  room,  the  doctor  saw  us 
comfortably  established  on  two  armchairs  before  he  put 
up  the  black  frames  to  exclude  the  light.  The  room  was 
then  pitch  dark,  and  the  doctor  had  to  grope  his  way  to 
his  cabinet.  Mrs.  Hooker  and  I  sat  for  some  minutes  in 
silent  expectation.  Then- we  heard  the  voice  of  a  negress, 
singing  "  darkey  "  songs,  and  my  friend  told  me  it  was 
that  of  "  Rosa,"  the  doctor's  control.  Presently  "  Rosa" 
was  heard  to  be  expostulating  with,  or  encouraging  some 
one,  and  faint  lights,  like  sparks  from  a  fire,  could  be 
seen  flitting  about  the  open  door  of  the  cabinet.  Then 
the  lights  seemed  to  congregate  together,  and  cluster 
about  a  tall  form,  draped  in  some  misty  material,  standing 
just  outside  the  cabinet.  "  Can't  you  tell  us  who  you 
are?"  asked  Mrs.  Hooker,  "You  must  tell  your  name, 
you  know,"  interposed  "  Rosa,"  whereupon  a  low  voice 
said,  "  I  am  Janet  E,  Powles." 

Now  this  was  an  extraordinary  coincidence.  I  had  seen 
Mrs.  Powles,  the  mother  of  my  friend  "  John  Powles," 
only  once — when  she  travelled  from  Liverpool  to  London 
to  meet  me  on  my  return  from  India,  and  hear  all  the  par- 
ticulars of  her  son's  death.  But  she  had  continued  to 
correspond  with  me,  and  show  me  kindness  till  the  day  of 
her  own  death,  and  as  she  had  a  daughter  of  the  same 
name,  she  always  signed  herself  "Janet  E.  Powles."  Even 
had  I  expected  to  see  the  old  lady,  and  published  the  fact 
in  the  Boston  papers,  that  initial  E  would  have  settled  the 
question  of  her  identity  in  my  mind. 

"Mrs.  Powles,"  I  exclaimed,  "how  good  of  you  to 
come  and  see  me."  '^  Johnny  has  helped  me  to  come," 
she  replied.  "  He  is  so  happy  at  having  met  you  again. 
He  has  been  longing  for  it  for  so  many  years,  and  I  have 
come  to  thank  you  for  making  him  happy."  (Here  was 
another  coincidence.  "  John  Powles  "  was  never  called 
anything  but  "  Powles  "  by  my  husband  and  myself.  But 
his  mother  had  retained  the  childish  name  of  "Johnny," 
and  I  could  remember  how  it  used  to  vex  him  when  she 
used  it  in  her  letters  to  him.  He  would  say  to  me, 
"  If  she  would  only  call  me  '  John  '  or  *  Jack,'  or  any- 
thing but  'Johnny.'")      I  replied,  "  I  may  not  leave  my 


240  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

seat  to  go  to  you.  Will  you  not  come  to  me  ?  '*  For  the 
doctor  had  requested  us  not  to  leave  our  seats,  but  to  in- 
sist on  the  spirits  approaching  us.  "  Mrs.  Powles  "  said, 
"I  cannot  come  out  further  into  the  room  to-day.  I  am 
too  weak.  But  you  shall  see  me."  The  lights  then  ap- 
peared to  travel  about  her  face  and  dress  till  they  became 
stationary,  and  she  was  completely  revealed  to  view  under 
the  semblance  of  her  earthly  likeness.  She  smiled  and 
said,  "  We  were  all  at  the  Opera  House  on  Thursday 
night,  and  rejoiced  at  your  success.  '  Johnny  '  was  so 
proud  of  you.  Many  of  your  friends  were  there  beside 
ourselves." 

I  then  saw  that,  unlike  the  spirits  at  Miss  Berry's,  the 
form  of  "Mrs.  Powles"  was  draped  in  a  kind  of  filmy 
white,  over  a  dark  dress.  All  the  spirits  that  appeared 
with  the  doctor  were  so  clothed,  and  I  wondered  if  the 
filmy  substance  had  anything  to  do  with  the  lights,  which 
looked  like  electricity.  An  incident  which  occurred 
further  on  seemed  to  confirm  my  idea.  When  "  Mrs. 
Powles  "  had  gone,  which  we  guessed  by  the  extinguishing 
of  the  lights,  the  handsome  face  and  form  of  "  Harry 
Montagu  "  appeared.  I  had  known  him  well  in  England, 
before  he  took  his  fatal  journey  to  America,  and  could 
never  be  mistaken  in  his  sweet  smile  and  fascinating 
manner.  He  did  not  come  further  than  the  door,  either, 
but  he  was  standing  within  twelve  or  fourteen  feet  of  us 
for  all  that.  He  only  said,  "  Good-luck  to  you.  We  can't 
lose  an  interest  in  the  old  profession,  you  know,  any  more 
than  in  the  old  people."  "  I  wish  you'd  come  and  help 
me,  Harry,"  I  answered.  "  Oh,  I  do  ! "  he  said,  brightly  ; 
"several  of  us  do.  We  are  all  links  of  the  same  chain. 
Half  the  inspiration  in  the  world  comes  from  those  who 
have  gone  before.  But  I  must  go  !  Pm  getting  crowded 
out.  Here's  Ada  waiting  to  see  you.  Good-bye  !  "  And 
as  his  light  went  out,  the  sweet  face  of  Adelaide  Neilson 
appeared  in  his  stead.  She  said,  "  You  wept  when  you 
heard  of  my  death;  and  yet  you  never  knew  me.  How 
was  that?  "  "  Did  I  weep  ?  "  I  answered,  half  forgetting  ; 
"if  so,  it  must  have  been  because  I  thought  it  so  sad  that 
a  woman  so  young,  and  beautiful,  and  gifted  as  you  were, 
should  leave  the  world  so  soon.''  "  Oh  no  !  not  sad,"  she 
answered,  brightly  ;  "  glorious  !  glorious  !  I  would  not  be 
back  again  for  worlds."      "  Have    you    ever    seen   your 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  44! 

grave  ?  "  I  asked  her.  She  shook  her  head.  "  What  are 
graves  to  us  ?  Only  cupboards,  where  you  keep  our  cast- 
off  clothes."  "  You  don't  ask  me  what  the  world  says 
about  you,  now,"  I  said  to  her.  "And  I  don't  care,"  she 
answered.     *'  Don't  you  forget  me  !     Good-bye  !  " 

She  was  succeeded  by  a  spirit  who  called  herself 
"  Charlotte  Cushman,"  and  who  spoke  to  me  kindly  about 
my  professional  life.  Mrs,  Hooker  told  me  that,  to  the 
best  of  her  knowledge,  none  of  these  three  spirits  had  ever 
appeared  under  the  doctor's  mediumship  before.  But  now 
came  out  "  Florence,"  dancing  into  the  room — literally 
dancing,  holding  out  in  both  hands  the  skirt  of  a  dress, 
which  looked  as  if  it  were  made  of  the  finest  muslin  or 
lace,  and  up  and  down  which  fireflys  were  darting  with 
marvellous  rapidity.  She  looked  as  if  clothed  in  electricity, 
and  infinitely  well  pleased  with  herself  "  Look  !  "  she 
exclaimed;  "  look  at  my  dress  !  isn't  it  lovely?  Look  at 
the  fire  !  The  more  I  shake  it,  the  more  fire  comes !  Oh, 
mother  !  if  you  could  only  have  a  dress  like  this  for  the 
stage,  what  a  sensation  you  would  make  !  "  And  she 
shook  her  skirts  about,  till  the  fire  seemed  to  set  a  light  to 
every  part  of  her  drapery,  and  she  looked  as  if  she  were  in 
flames.  I  observed,  "  I  never  knew  you  to  take  so  much 
interest  in  your  dress  before,  darling."  "  Oh,  it  isn't  the 
dress,"  she  replied;  "it's  i\\tfire  T'  And  she  really  ap- 
peared as  charmed  with  the  novel  experience  as  a  child 
with  a  new  toy. 

As  she  left  us,  a  dark. figure  advanced  into  the  room, 
and  ejaculated,  "  Ma  !  ma  1 "  I  recognized  at  once  the 
peculiar  intonation  and  mode  of  address  of  my  stepson, 
Francis  Lean,  with  whom,  since  he  had  announced  his 
own  death  to  me,  I  had  had  no  communication,  except 
through  trance  mediumship.  "  Is  that  you,  my  poor  boy," 
I  said,  "  come  closer  to  me.  You  are  not  afraid  of  me, 
are  you  ?  "  *'  O,  no  !  Ma  1  of  course  not,  only  I  was  at 
the  Opera  House,  you  know,  with  the  others,  and  that 
piece  you  recited,  Ma — you  know  the  one — it's  all  true, 
Ma — and  I  don't  want  you  to  go  back  to  England.  Stay 
here.  Ma — stay  here  ! "  I  knew  perfectly  well  to  what  the 
lad  alluded,  but  I  would  not  enter  upon  it  before  a  stranger. 
So  I  only  said,  "  You  forget  my  children,  Francis — what 
would  they  say  if  I  never  went  home  again."  This  seemed 
to  puzzle  him,  but  after  a  while  he  answered,  "  Then  go  to 

16 


2^i  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

them,  Ma  ;  go  to  them."  All  this  time  he  had  been  tallt^ 
ing  in  the  dark,  and  I  only  knew  him  by  the  sound  of  his 
voice.  I  said,  "  Are  you  not  going  to  show  yourself  to  me, 
Francis.  It  is  such  a  long  time  since  we  met."  "  Never 
since,  you  saw  me  at  the  docks.  That  was  vie.  Ma,  and  at 
Brighton,  too,  only  you  didn't  half  believe  it  till  you  heard 
I  was  gone."  "  Tell  me  the  truth  of  the  accident,  Francis," 
I  asked  him.  "Was  there  foul  play?"  "No,"  he  re- 
plied, "  but  we  got  quarrelling  about  her  you  know,  and 
fighting,  and  that's  how  the  boat  upset.  It  was  ttiy  fault, 
Ma,  as  much  as  anybody  else's." 

"  How  was  it  your  body  was  never  found  ?  "  "  It  got 
dragged  down  in  an  undercurrent,  Ma.  It  was  out  at  Cape 
Horn  before  they  offered  a  reward  for  it."  Then  he  be- 
gan to  light  up,  and  as  soon  as  the  figure  was  illuminated 
I  saw  that  the  boy  was  dressed  in  "jumpers"  and  "jer- 
sey "  of  dark  woollen  material,  such  as  they  wear  in  the 
merchant  service  in  hot  climates,  but  over  it  all — his  head 
and  shoulders  included — was  wound  a  quantity  of  flimsy 
white  material  I  have  before  mentioned.  "I  can't  bear 
this  stuff.  It  makes  me  look  like  a  girl,"  said  "  Francis," 
and  with  his  hands  he  tore  it  off.  Simultaneously  the 
illumination  ceased,  and  he  was  gone.  I  called  him  by 
name  several  times,  but  no  sound  came  out  of  the  dark- 
ness. It  seemed  as  though  the  veiling  which  he  disliked 
preserved  his  materialization,  and  that,  with  its  protection 
removed,  he  had  dissolved  again. 

When  another  dark  figure  came  out  of  the  cabinet,  and 
approaching  me,  knelt  at  my  feet,  I  supposed  it  to  be 
"  P'rancis  "  come  back  again,  and  laying  my  hand  on  the 
bent  head,  I  asked,  "  Is  this  you  again,  dear  ?  "  A  strange 
voice  answered,  with  the  words,  "  Forgive  !  forgive  ! " 
"  Forgive  /  "  I  repeated,  "  What  have  I  to  forgive  ?  "  "  The 
attempt  to  murder  your  husband  in  1856.  Arthur  Yelver- 
ton  Brooking  has  forgiven.  He  is  here  with  me  now.  Will 
you  forgive  too  ?  "  "  Certainly,"  I  replied,  "  I  have  for- 
given long  ago.  You  expiated  your  sin  upon  the  gallows. 
You  could  do  no  more." 

The  figure  sprung  into  a  standing  position,  and  lit  up 
from  head  to  foot,  when  I  saw  the  two  men  standing 
together,  Arthur  Yelverton  Brooking  and  the  Madras  sepoy 
who  had  murdered  him.  I  never  saw  anything  more  bril- 
liant than  the  appearance  of  the  sepoy.     He  was  dressed 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  243 

completely  in  white,  in  the  native  costume,  with  a  white 
"  puggree  "  or  turban  on  his  head.  But  his  "  puggree  "  was 
flashing  with  jewels — strings  of  them  were  hung  round  his 
neck — and  his  sash  held  a  magnificent  jewelled  dagger. 
You  must  please  to  remember  that  I  was  not  alone,  but 
that  this  sight  was  beheld  by  Mrs.  Hooker  as  well  as 
myself  (to  whom  it  was  as  unexpected  as  to  her),  and  that 
I  know  she  would  testify  to  it  to-day.  And  now  to  explain 
the  reason  of  these  unlooked-for  apparitions. 

In  1856  my  husband,  then  Lieutenant  Ross-Church,  was 
Adjutant  of  the  12th  Madras  Native  Infantry,  and  Arthur 
Yelverton  Brooking,  who  had  for  some  time  done  duty 
with  the  12th,  was  adjutant  of  another  native  corps,  both 
of  which  were  stationed  at  Madras.  Lieutenant  Church 
was  not  a  favorite  with  his  men,  by  whom  he  was  consid- 
ered a  martinet,  and  one  day  when  there  had  been  a  review 
on  the  island  at  Madras,  and  the  two  adjutants  were  riding 
home  together,  a  sepoy  of  the  12th  fired  at  Lieutenant 
Church's  back  with  the  intent  to  kill  him,  but  unfortunately 
the  bullet  struck  Lieutenant  Brooking  instead,  who,  after 
lingering  for  twelve  hours,  died,  leaving  a  young  wife  and 
a  baby  behind  him.  For  this  offeiTce  the  sepoy  was  tried 
and  hung,  and  on  his  trial  the  whole  truth  of  course  came 
out.  This  then  was  the  reason  that  the  spirits  of  the  mur- 
dered and  the  murderer  came  like  friends,  because  the 
injury  had  never  been  really  intended  for  Brooking. 

When  I  said  that  I  had  forgiven,  the  sepoy  became  (as 
I  have  told)  a  blaze  of  light,  and  then  knelt  again  and 
kissed  the  hem  of  my  dress.  As  he  knelt  there  he  became 
covered,  or  heaped  over,  with  a  mass  of  the  same  filmy 
drapery  as  enveloped  "Francis,"  and  when  he  rose  again 
he  was  standing  in  a  cloud.  He  gathered  an  end  of  it, 
and  laying  it  on  my  head  he  wound  me  and  himself  round 
and  round  with  it,  until  we  were  bound  up  in  a  kind  of 
cocoon.  Mrs.  Hooker,  who  watched  the  whole  proceeding, 
told  me  afterwards  that  she  had  never  seen  anything  like  it 
before — that  she  could  distinctly  see  the  dark  face  and  the 
white  face  close  together  all  the  time  beneath  the  drapery, 
and  that  I  was  as  brightly  illuminated  as  the  spirit.  Of 
this  I  was  not  aware  myself,  but  his  brightness  almost 
dazzled  me. 

Let  me  observe  also  that  I  have  been  in  the  East  Indies, 
and  within  a  few  yards'  length  of  sepoys,  and  that  I  am 


244  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH, 

sure  I  could  never  have  been  wrapt  in  the  same  cloth  with 
a  mortal  one  without  having  been  made  painfully  aware  of 
it  in  more  ways  than  one.  The  spirit  did  not  unwind  me 
again,  although  the  winding  process  had  taken  him  some 
time.  He  whisked  off  the  wrapping  with  one  pull,  and 
1  stood  alone  once  more.  I  asked  him  by  what  name  I 
should  call  him,  and  he  said,  "The  Spirit  of  Light."  He 
then  expressed  a  wish  to  magnetize  something  I  wore,  so 
as  to  be  the  better  able  to  approach  me.  I  gave  him  a 
brooch  containing  "  John  Powles' "  hair,  which  his  mother 
had  given  me  after  his  death,  and  he  carried  it  back  into 
the  cabinet  with  him.  It  was  a  valuable  brooch  of  onyx 
and  pearls,  and  I  was  hoping  my  eastern  friend  would  not 
carry  it  too  far,  when  I  found  it  had  been  replaced  and  fas- 
tened at  my  throat  without  my  being  aware  of  the  circum- 
stance. "  Arthur  Yelverton  Brooking  "  had  disappeared 
before  this,  and  neither  of  them  came  back  again.  These 
were  not  all  the  spirits  that  came  under  the  doctor's 
mediumship  during  that  seance,  but  only  those  whom  I  had 
known  and  recognized.  Several  of  Mrs.  Hooker's  friends 
appeared  and  some  of  the  doctor's  controls,  but  as  I  have 
said  before,  they  could  fiot  help  my  narrative,  and  so  I  omit 
to  describe  them.  The  seafice  lasted  altogether  two  hours, 
and  I  was  very  grateful  to  the  doctor  for  giving  me  the  oppor- 
tunity to  study  an  entirely  new  phase  of  the  science  to  me. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH,  245 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

V.  Mrs.  Fay. 

There  was  a  young  woman  called  "  Annie  Eva  Fay,"  who 
came  over  from  America  to  London  some  years  ago,  and 
appeared  at  the  Hanover  Square  Rooms,  in  an  exhibition 
after  the  manner  of  the  Davenport  Brothers  and  Messrs. 
Maskelyne  and  Cook.  She  must  not  be  confounded  with 
the  Mrs.  Fay  who  forms  the  subject  of  this  chapter, 
because  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  one  another.  Some 
one  in  Boston  advised  me  not  to  go  and  sit  at  one  of  this 
Mrs.  Fay's  public  seances.  They  were  described  to  me  as 
being  too  physical  and  unrefined ;  that  the  influences  were 
of  a  low  order,  and  the  audiences  matched  them.  How- 
ever, when  I  am  studying  a  matter,  I  like  to  see  everything 
I  can  and  hear  everything  I  can  concerning  it,  and  to  form 
my  own  opinion  independent  of  that  of  anybody  else.  So 
I  walked  off  by  myself  one  night  to  Mrs.  Fay's  address, 
and  sat  down  in  a  quiet  corner,  watching  everything  that 
occurred.  The  circle  certainly  numbered  some  members 
of  a  humble  class,  but  I  conclude  we  should  see  that 
everywhere  if  the  fees  were  lower.  Media,  like  other  pro- 
fessional people,  fix  their  charges  according  to  the  quarter 
of  the  city  in  which  they  live.  But  every  member  was 
silent  and  respectful,  and  evidently  a  believer. 

One  young  man,  in  deep  mourning,  with  a  little  girl  also 
in  black,  of  about  five  or  six  years  old,  attracted  my  atten- 
tion at  once,  from  his  sorrowful  and  abstracted  manner. 
He  had  evidently  come  there,  I  thought,  in  the  hope  of 
seeing  some  one  whom  he  had  lost.  Mrs.  Fay  (as  she 
I^assed  through  the  room  to  her  cabinet)  appeared  a  very 
quiet,  simple-looking  little  woman  to  me,  without  any  loud- 
ness or  vulgarity  about  her.  Her  cabinet  was  composed 
of  two  curtains  only,  made  of  some  white  material,  and 
hung  on  uprights  at  one  angle,  in  a  corner  of  the  room, 
the  most  transparent  contrivance  possible.  Anything  like 
a  bustle  or  confusion  inside  it,  such  as  would  be  occasioned 


246  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

by  dressing  or  "  making  up,"  would  have  been  apparent  at 
once  to  the  audience  outside,  who  were  sitting  by  the  light 
of  an  ordinary  gas-burner  and  globe.  Yet  Mrs.  Fay  had 
not  been  seated  there  above  a  few  minutes,  when  there 
ran  out  into  the  seaJice  room  two  of  the  most  extraordi- 
nary materializations  I  had  ever  seen,  and  both  of  them 
about  as  opposite  to  Mrs.  Fay  in  appearance  as  any  creatures 
could  be. 

One  was  an  Irish  charwoman  or  apple-woman  (she 
might  have  been  either)  with  a  brown,  wrinkled  face,  a 
broken  nose,  tangled  grey  hair,  a  crushed  bonnet,  general 
dirt  and  disorder,  and  a  tongue  that  could  talk  broad  Irisli, 
and  call  "  a  spade  a  spade  "  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
"  Biddy,"  as  she  was  named,  was  accompanied  by  a  street 
newspaper  boy — one  of  those  urchins  who  run  after  car- 
riages and  turn  Catherine-wheels  in  the  mud,  and  who 
talked  "gutter-slang"  in  a  style  that  was  utterly  unintelli- 
gible to  the  decent  portion  of  the  sitters.  These  two  went 
on  in  a  manner  that  was  undoubtedly  funny,  but  not  at  all 
edifying  and  calculated  to  drive  any  enquirer  into  Spirit- 
ualism out  of  the  room,  under  the  impression  that  they 
were  evil  spirits  bent  on  our  destruction.  That  either  of 
them  was  represented  by  Mrs.  Fay  was  out  of  the  question. 
In  the  first  place,  she  would,  in  that  instance,  have  been 
so  clever  an  actress  and  mimic,  that  she  would  have  made 
her  fortune  on  the  stage — added  to  which  the  boy  ''■  Teddy  " 
was  much  too  small  for  her,  and  "Biddy"  was  much  too 
large.  Besides,  no  actress,  however  experienced,  could 
have  "  made  up  "  in  the  time.  I  was  quite  satisfied,  there- 
fore, that  neither  of  them  was  the  medium,  even  if  I  could 
not  have  seen  her  figure  the  while,  through  the  thin 
curtains,  sitting  in  her  chair.  Why  such  low,  physical 
manifestations  are  permitted  I  am  unable  to  say.  It  was 
no  wonder  they  had  shocked  the  sensibility  of  my  friend. 
I  felt  half  inclined  myself  when  they  appeared  to  get  up 
and  run  away.  However,  I  was  very  glad  afterwards  that 
I  did  not.  They  disappeared  after  a  while,  and  were  suc- 
ceeded by  a  much  pleasanter  person,  a  cabinet  spirit  called 
"  Gipsy,"  who  looked  as  if  she  might  have  belonged  to 
one  of  the  gipsy  tribes  when  on  earth,  she  was  so  brown  and 
arch  and  lively.  Presently  the  young  man  in  black  was 
called  up,  and  I  saw  him  talking  to  a  female  spirit  very 
earnestly,     After  a  while  he  took  her  hand  and  led  her 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  24J 

outside  the  curtain,  and  called  the  little  girl  whom  he  had 
left  on  his  seat  by  her  name.  The  child  looked  up,  screamed 
"  Mamma  !  mamma  !  "  and  flew  into  the  arms  of  the  spirit, 
who  knelt  down  and  kissed  her,  and  we  could  hear  the 
child  sobbing  and  saying,  "  Oh  !  mamma,  why  did  you  go 
away? — why  did  you  go  away?  "  It  was  a  very  affecting 
scene — at  least  it  seemed  so  to  me.  The  instant  recogni- 
tion by  the  little  girl,  and  her  perfect  unconsciousness  but 
that  her  mother  had  returned  in  propria  persona,  would 
have  been  more  convincing  proof  of  the  genuineness  of 
Spiritualism  to  a  sceptic,  than  fifty  miracles  of  greater  im- 
portance. When  the  spirit  mother  had  to  leave  again  the 
child's  agony  at  parting  was  very  apparent.  "Take  me 
with  you,"  she  kept  on  saying,  and  her  father  had  actually 
to  carry  her  back  to  her  seat.  When  they  got  there  they 
both  wept  in  unison.  Afterwards  he  said  to  me  in  an 
apologetic  sort  of  way — he  was  sitting  next  to  me — "  It  is 
the  first  time,  you  see,  that  Mary  has  seen  her  poor  mother, 
but  I  wanted  to  have  her  testimony  to  her  identity,  and  I 
think  she  gave  it  pretty  plainly,  poor  child  !  She'll  never 
be  content  to  let  me  come  alone  now."  I  said,  "  I  think  it 
is  a  pity  you  brought  her  so  young,"  and  so  I  did. 

"  Florence  "  did  not  appear  (she  told  me  afterwards  the 
atmosphere  was  so  "  rough  "  that  she  could  not),  and  I 
began  to  think  that  no  one  would  come  for  me,  when  a 
common  seaman,  dressed  in  ordinary  sailor's  clothes,  ran 
out  of  the  cabinet  and  began  dancing  a  hornpipe  in  front 
of  me.  He  danced  it  capitally  too,  and  with  any  amount 
of  vigorous  snapping  his  fingers  to  mark  the  time,  and  when 
he  had  finished  he  *'  made  a  leg,"  as  sailors  call  it,  and  stood 
before  me.  "  Have  you  come  for  me,  my  friend  ? "  I 
enquired.  "  Not  exactly,"  he  answered,  "  but  I  came 
with  the  Cap'en.  I  came  to  pave  the  way  for  him.  The 
Cap'en  will  be  here  directly.  We  was  in  the  Avenger 
together."  (Now  all  the  v/orld  knows  that  my  eldest 
brother,  Frederick  Marryat,  was  drowned  in  the  wreck  of 
the  Avenger  in  1847  >  ^^^  ^^  -^  ^^'^^  ^  little  child  at  the  time, 
and  had  no  remembrance  of  him,  I  had  never  dreamt  of 
seeing  him  again.  He  was  a  first  lieutenant  when  he  died, 
so  I  do  not  know  why  the  seaman  gave  him  brevet  rank, 
but  I  repeat  his  words  as  he  said  them.)  After  a  minute 
or  two  I  was  called  up  to  the  cabinet,  and  saw  my  brother 
Frederick  (whom  I  recognized  from  his  likeness)  standing 


348  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

there  dressed  in  naval  uniform,  but  looking  very  stiff  and 
unnatural.  He  smiled  when  he  saw  me,  but  did  not 
attempt  to  kiss  me.  I  said,  "  Why  !  Fred!  is  it  really  you? 
I  thought  you  would  have  forgotten  all  about  me."  He 
replied,  "  Forgotten  little  Flo  ?  Why  should  I  ?  Do  you 
think  I  have  never  seen  you  since  that  time,  nor  heard 
anything  about  you?  I  know  everything — everything!" 
"  You  must  know,  then,  that  I  have  not  spent  a  very  happy 
life,"  I  said.  "  Never  mind,"  he  answered,  "you  needed 
it.  It  has  done  you  good  !  "  But  all  he  said  was  without 
any  life  in  it,  as  if  he  spoke  mechanically — perhaps  because 
it  was  the  first  time  he  had  materialized. 

I  had  said  "  Good-bye  "  to  him,  and  dropped  the  cur- 
tain, when  I  heard  my  name  called  twice,  "  Flo!  Flo!" 
and  turned  to  receive  my  sister  "  Emily  "  in  my  arms.  She 
looked  like  herself  exactly,  but  she  had  only  time  to  kiss 
me  and  gasp  out,  "  So  glad,  so  happy  to  meet  again,"  when 
she  appeared  to  faint.  Her  eyes  closed,  her  head  fell  back 
on  my  shoulder,  and  before  I  had  time  to  realize  what  was 
going  to  happen,  she  had  passed  through  the  arm  that  sup- 
ported her,  and  sunk  down  through  the  floor.  The  sensa- 
tion of  her  weight  was  still  making  my  arm  tingle,  but 
"  Emily  "  was  gone — clean  gone.  I  was  very  much  disap- 
pointed. I  had  longed  to  see  this  sister  again,  and  speak 
to  her  confidentially  ;  but  whether  it  was  something  antago- 
nistic in  the  influence  of  this  seance  room  ("  Florence  " 
said  afterwards  that  it  was),  or  there  was  some  other  cause 
for  it,  I  know  not,  but  most  certainly  my  friends  did  not 
seem  to  flourish  there. 

I  had  another  horrible  disappointment  before  I  left. 
A  voice  from  inside  the  cabinet  called  out,  "  Here  are  two 
babies  who  want  the  lady  sitting  under  the  picture."  Now, 
there  was  only  one  picture  hanging  in  the  room,  and  I  was 
sitting  under  it.  I  looked  eagerly  towards  the  cabinet,  and 
saw  issue  from  it  the  "  Princess  Gertie  "  leading  a  little 
toddler  with  a  flaxen  poll  and  bare  feet,  and  no  clothing 
but  a  kind  of  white  chemise.  This  was  "  Joan,"  the 
"  Yonnie  "  I  had  so  often  asked  to  see,  and  I  rose  in  the 
greatest  expectation  to  receive  the  little  pait.  Just  as  they 
gained  the  centre  of  the  room,  however,  taking  very  short 
and  careful  steps,  like  babies  first  set  on  their  feet,  the 
cabinet  spirit  '■^  (^x'^^y"  bounced  out  of  the  curtains,  and 
saying  decidedly,  "  Here  !    we   don't  want  any  children 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  249 

about,"  she  placed  her  hand  on  the  heads  of  my  little  ones, 
zxiA pressed  them  down  through  the  floor.  They  seemed 
to  crumble  to  pieces  before  my  eyes,  and  their  place  knew 
them  no  more.  I  couldn't  help  feeling  angry.  I  exclaimed, 
"  O  !  what  did  you  do  that  for?  Those  were  my  babies, 
and  I  have  been  longing  to  see  them  so."  "  I  can't  help 
it,"  replied  "  Gipsy,"  "  but  this  isn't  a  seance  for  children." 
I  was  so  vexed  that  I  took  no  more  interest  in  the  proceed- 
ings. A  great  number  of  forms  appeared,  thirty  or  forty 
in  all,  but  by  the  time  I  returned  to  my  hotel  and  began 
to  jot  down  my  notes,  I  could  hardly  remember  what  they 
were.  I  had  been  dreaming  all  the  time  of  how  much  I 
should  have  liked  to  hold  that  little  flaxen-haired  "  Yonnie  " 
iu  my  arms.. 


2SO  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

VI.    Virginia  Roberts. 

When  I  returned  to  New  York,  it  was  under  exceptional 
circumstances.  I  had  taken  cold  whilst  travelling  in  the 
Western  States,  had  had  a  severe  attack  of  bronchitis  and 
pneumonia  at  Chicago,  was  compelled  to  relinquish  my 
business,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  well  enough  to  travel,  was 
ordered  back  to  New  York  to  recuperate  my  health.  Here 
I  took  up  my  abode  in  the  Victoria  Hotel,  where  a  lady, 
whose  acquaintance  I  had  made  on  my  former  visit  to  the 
city,  was  living.     As  I  have  no  permission  to  publish  this 

lady's  name,  I  must  call  her  Mrs.  S .     She  had  been  a 

Spiritualist  for  some  time  before  I  knev>'^  her,  and  she  much 
interested  me  by  showing  me  an  entry  in  her  diary,  made 
four  years  previous  to  my  arrival  in  America.  It  was  an 
account  of  the  utterances  of  a  Mrs.  Philips,  a  clairvoyant 
then  resident  in  New  York,  during  which  she  had  prophe- 
sied my  arrival  in  the  city,  described  my  personal  appear- 
ance, profession,  and  general  surroundings  perfectly,  and 
foretold  my  acquaintanceship  with  Mrs.  S .  The  pro- 
phecy ended  with  words  to  the  effect  that  our  meeting 
would  be  followed  by  certain  effects  that  would  influence 
her  future  life,^and  that  on  the  17th  of  March,  1885,  would 
commence  a  new  era  in  her  existence.  It  was  at  the 
beginning  of  March  that  we  first  lived  under  the  same  roof. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  S found  that  I  was  likely  to  have  some 

weeks  of  leisure,  she  became  very  anxious  that  we  should 
visit  the  New  York  media  together  ;  for  although  she  had 
so  long  been  a  believer  in  Spiritualism,  she  had  not  (owing 
to  family  opposition)  met  with  much  sympathy  on  the  sub- 
ject, or  had  the  opportunity  of  much  investigation.  So 
we  determined,  as  soon  as  I  was  well  enough  to  go  out  in 
the  evening,  that  we  would  attend  some  seances.  As  it 
happened,  when  that  time  came,  we  found  the  medium 
most  accessible  to  be  Miss  Virginia  Roberts,  of  whom 
neither  of  us  knew  anything  but  what  we  had  learned  from 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  351 

the  public  papers.  However,  it  was  necessary  that  I  should 
be  exposed  as  little  as  possible  to  the  night  air,  and  so  we 
fixed,  by  chance  as  it  were,  to  visit  Miss  Roberts  first. 
We  found  her  living  with  her  mother  and  brother  in  a  small 
house  in  one  of  the  back  streets  of  the  city.  She  was  a 
young  girl  of  sixteen,  very  reserved  and  rather  timid-look- 
ing, who  had  to  be  drawn  out  before  she  could  be  made  to 
talk.  She  had  only  commenced  sitting  a  few  months 
before,  and  that  because  her  brother  (who  was  also  a 
medium)  had  had  an  illness  and  been  obliged  to  give  up 
his  seances  for  a  while.  The  seance  room  was  very  small, 
the  manifestations  taking  place  almost  in  the  midst  of  the 
circle,  and  the  cabinet  (so-called)  was  the  flimsiest  con- 
trivance I  had  ever  seen.  Four  uprights  of  iron,  not 
thicker  than  the  rod  of  a  muslin  Hind,  with  cross-bars  of 
the  same,  on  which  were  hung  thin  curtains  of  lilac  print, 
formed  the  construction  of  this  cabinet,  which  shook  and 
swayed  about  each  time  a  form  left  or  entered  it.  A  har- 
monium for  accompanying  the  voices,  and  a  few  chairs  for 
the  audience,  was  all  the  furniture  the  room  contained. 
The  first  evening  we  went  to  see  Miss  Roberts  there  were 
only  two  or  three  sitters  beside  ourselves.  The  medium 
seemed  to  be  pretty  nearly  unknown,  and  I  resolved,  as  I 
usually  do  in  such  cases,  not  to  expect  anything,  for  fear 
I  should  be  disappointed. 

Mrs.  S ,  on  the  contrary,  was  all  expectation  and 

excitement.  If  she  had  ever  sat  for  materializations,  it 
had  been  long  before,  and  the  idea  was  like  a  new  one  to 
her.  After  two  or  three  forms  had  appeared,  of  no  interest 
to  us,  a  gentleman  in  full  evening  dress  walked  suddenly 
out  of  the  cabinet,  and  said,  '•  Kate,"  which  was  the  name 

of  Mrs.  S .     He  was  a  stout,  well-formed  man,  of  an 

imposing  presence,  with  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  he  wore  a 
solitaire  of  diamonds  of  unusual  brilliancy  in  his  shirt  front. 

I  had  no  idea  who  he  was  ;  but  Mrs.  S recognized  him 

at  once  as  an  old  lover  who  had  died  whilst  under  a  mis- 
understanding with  her,  and  she  was  powerfully  affected — 
more,  she  was  terribly  frightened.  It  seems  that  she  wore 
at  her  throat  a  brooch  which  he  had  given  her  ;  but  every 
time  he  approached  her  with  the  view  of  touching  it,  she 
shrieked  so  loudly,  and  threw  herself  into  such  a  state  of 
nervous  agitation,  that  I  thought  she  would  have  to  return 
home  again.     However,  on  her  being  accommodated  with 


252  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

a  chair  in  the  last  row  so  that  she  might  have  the  other 
sitters  between  her  and  the  materialized  spirits,  she  man- 
aged to  calm  herself.  The  only  friend  who  appeared  for 
me  that  evening  was  "John  Powles;"  and,  to  my  surprise 
and  pleasure,  he  appeared  in  the  old  uniform  of  the  12th 
Madras  Native  Infantry.  This  corps  wore  facings  of  fawn, 
with  buttons  bearing  the  word  "  Ava,"  encircled  by  a 
wreath  of  laurel.  The  mess  jackets  were  lined  with  wadded 
fawn  silk,  and  the  waistcoats  were  trimmed  with  three  lines 
of  narrow  gold  braid.  Their  "  karkee,"  or  undress  uniform, 
established  in  1859,  consisted  of  a  tunic  and  trousers  of  a 
sad  green  cloth,  with  the  regimental  buttons  and  a  crimson 
silk  sash.  The  marching  dress  of  all  officers  in  the  Indian 
service  is  made  of  white  drill,  with  a  cap  cover  of  the  same 
material.  '1  heir  forage  cloak  is  of  dark  blue  cloth,  and  hangs 
to  their  heels.  Their  forage  cap  has  a  broad  square  peak  to 
shelter  the  face  and  eyes.  I  mention  these  details  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who  are  not  acquainted  with  the  general 
dress  of  the  Indian  army,  and  to  show  how  difficult  it 
would  have  been  for  Virginia  Roberts,  or  any  other  medium, 
to  have  procured  them,  even  had  she  known  the  private 
wish  expressed  by  me  to  "  John  Powles  "  in  Boston,  that 
he  would  try  and  come  to  me  in  uniform.  On  this  first 
occasion  of  his  appearing  so,  he  wore  the  usual  everyday 
coat,  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  and  he  made  me  examine 
the  buttons  to  see  that  they  bore  the  crest  and  motlo  of 
the  regiment.  And  I  may  say  here,  that  before  I  left  New 
York  he  appeared  to  me  in  every  one  of  the  various  dresses 
I  have  described  above,  and  became  quite  a  marked  figure 
in  the  city. 

When  it  was  made  known  through  the  papers  that  an  old 
friend  of  Florence  Marryal  had  appeared  through  the 
mediumship  of  Virginia  Roberts,  in  a  uniform  of  thirty 
years  before,  I  received  numbers  of  private  letters  inquir- 
ing if  it  were  true,  and  dozens  of  people  visited  Miss 
Roberts'  seances  for  the  sole  purpose  of  seeing  him.  He 
took  a  great  liking  for  Mrs.  S ,  and  when  she  had  con- 
quered her  first  fear  she  became  quite  friendly  with  him, 
and  I  heard,  after  leaving  New  York,  that  he  continued  to 
appear  for  her  as  long  as  she  attended  those  seances. 

There  was  one  difference  in  the  female  spirits  that  came 
through  Virginia  Roberts  from  those  of  other  media. 
Those  that  were  strong  enough  to  leave  the  cabinet  inva- 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  253 

riably  disappeared  by  floating  upwards  through  the  ceiling. 
Their  mode  of  doing  this  was  most  graceful.     They  would 
first  clasp  their  hands  behind  their  heads  and  lean  back- 
ward ;  then  their  feet  were  lifted  off  the  ground,  and  they 
were  borne  upward  in  a  recumbent  position.     When   I 
related  this  to  my  friend,  Dr.  George  Leffcrts  (under  whom 
I  was  for  throat  treatment  to  recover  my  voice),  he  declared 
there  must  be  some  machinery  connected  with  the  uprights 
that  supported  the  cabinet,  by  which  the  forms  were  ele- 
vated.    He  had  got  it  all  so  "  pat  "  that  lie  was  able  to 
take  a  pencil  and  demonstrate  to  me  on  paper  exactly  how 
the  machinery  worked,  and  how  easy  it  would  be  to  swing 
full-sized  human  bodies  up  to  the  ceiling  with  it.     How 
they  managed  to  disappear  when  they  got  there  he  was  not 
quite  prepared  to  say  ;  but  if  he  once  saw  the  trick  done, 
he  would  explain  the  whole  matter  to  me,  and  expose  it 
into  the  bargain.     I  told  Dr.  Lefferts,  as  I  have  told  many 
other  clever  men,' that  I  shall  be  the  first  person  open   to 
conviction  when  they  can  convince  me,  and  I  bore  him  off 
to  a  private  seance  with  Virginia  Roberts  for  that  purpose 
only.    He  was  all  that  was  charming  on  the  occasion.     He 
gave  me  a  most  delightful  dinner  at  Delmonico's  first  (for 
which  I  tender  him  in  print  my  grateful  recollection),  and 
he  tested  all  Miss   Roberts'  manifestations  in   the  most 
delicate  and  gentlemanly  manner  (sceptics  as  a  rule  are 
neither  delicate  nor  gentlemanly),  but   he  could   neither 
open  my  eyes  to  chicanery  nor   detect   it   himself.     He 
handled  and  shook  the  frail  supports  of  the  cabinet,  and 
confessed  they  were  much  too  weak  to  bear  any  such  weight 
as  he  had  imagined.     He  searched  the  carpeted  floor  and 
the  adjoining  room  for  hidden  machinery  without  finding 
the  slightest  thing  to  rouse  his  suspicions,  and  yet  he  saw 
the  female  forms  float  upwards  through  the  whitewashed 
ceiling,  and  came  away  from  the  siance  room  as  wise  as 
when  he  had  entered  it. 

But  this  occurred  some  weeks  after.     I  must  relate  first 
what  happened  after  our  first  seance  with  Miss  Roberts. 

Mrs.  S and  I  were  well  enough  pleased  with  the  result 

to  desire  to  test  her  capabilities  further,  and  with  that  intent 
we  invited  her  to  visit  us  at  our  hotel.  Spiritualism  is  as 
much  tabooed  by  one  section  of  the  American  public  as  it 
is  encouraged  by  the  other,  and  so  we  resolved  to  breathe 
nothing  of  our  intentions,  but  invite  the  girl  to  dine  and 


854  THERE   IS  NO   DEATH, 

spend  the  evening  in  our  rooms  with  us  just  as  if  she  were 
an  ordinary  visitor.  Consequently,  we  dined  together  at 
the  table  d'hote  before  we  took  our  way  upstairs.     Mrs. 

S and  I  had  a  private  sitting-room,  the  windows  of 

which  were  draped  with  white  lace  curtains  only,  and  we 
had  no  other  means  to  shut  out  the  light.  Consequently, 
when  we  wished  to  sit,  all  we  could  do  was  to  place  a 
chair  for  Virginia  Roberts  in  the  window  recess,  behind 
one  of  these  pairs  of  curtains,  and  pin  them  together  in 
front  of  her,  which  formed  the  airiest  cabinet  imaginable. 
We  then  locked  the  door,  lowered  the  gas,  and  sat  down 
on  a  sofa  before  the  curtains. 

In  the  space  of  five  minutes,  without  the  lace  curtains 
having  been  in  the  slightest  degree  disturbed,  Francis  Lean, 
my  stepson,  walked  through  them,  and  came  up  to  my  side. 
He  was  dressed  in  his  ordinary  costume  of  jersey  and 
"jumpers,"  and  had  a  little  worsted  cap  upon  his  head. 
He  displayed  all  tlie  peculiarities  of  speech  and  manner  I 
have  noticed  before  ;  but  he  was  much  less  timid,  and 
stood  by  me  for  a  long  time  talking  of  my  domestic  affairs, 
which  were  rather  complicated,  and  giving  me  a  detailed 
account  of  the  accident  which  caused  his  death,  and  which 
had  been  always  somewhat  of  a  mystery.  In  doing  this, 
he  mentioned  names  of  people  hitherto  unknown  to  me, 
but  which  I  found  on  after  inquiry  to  be  true.  He  seemed 
quite  delighted  to  be  able  to  manifest  so  indisputably  like 
himself,  and  remarked  more  than  once,  "  I'm  not  much  like 
a  girl  now,  am  I,  Ma  ?  " 

Next,  Mrs.  S 's  old  lover  came,  of  whom  she  was 

still  considerably  alarmed,  and  her  father,  who  had  been  a 
great  politician  and  a  well-known  man.  *'  Florence,"  too, 
of  course,  though  never  so  lively  through  Miss  Roberts  as 
through  other  media,  but  still  happy  though  pensile,  and 
full  of  advice  how  I  was  to  act  when  I  reached  England 
again.  Presently  a  soft  voice  said,  "  Aunt  Flo,  don't  you 
know  me?  "  And  I  saw  standing  in  front  of  me  my  niece 
and  godchild,  Lilian  Thomas,  who  had  died  as  a  nun  in 
the  Convent  of  the  "  Dames  Anglaises  "  at  Bruges.  She 
was  clothed  in  her  nun's  habit,  which  was  rather  peculiar, 
the  face  being  surrounded  by  a  white  cap,  with  a  crimped 
border  that  hid  all  the  hair,  and  surmounted  by  a  white 
veil  of  some  heavy  woollen  material  which  covered  the 
head  and  the  black  serge  dress.     "  Lilian  "  had  died  of 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  255 

consumption,  and  the  death-like,  waxy  complexion  which 
she  had  had  for  some  time  before  was  exactly  reproduced. 
She  had  not  much  to  say  for  herself;  indeed,  we  had  been 
completely  separated  since  she  had  entered  the  convent,  but 
she  was  undoubtedly  there.  She  was  succeeded  by  my 
sister  "  Emily,"  whom  I  have  already  so  often  described. 
And  these  apparitions,  six  in  number,  and  all  recognizable, 

were  produced  in   the  private  room  of  Mrs.  S and 

myself,  and  with  no  other  person  but  Virginia  Roberts, 
sixteen  years  old. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  we  received  an  invitation  to 
attend  a  private  seance  in  a  large  house  in  the  city,  occu- 
pied by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newman,  who  had  Maud  Lord 
staying  with  them  as  a  visitor.  Maud  Lord's  mediumship 
is  a  peculiar  one.  She  places  her  sitters  in  a  circle,  hold- 
ing hands.  She  then  seats  herself  on  a  chair  in  the  centre, 
and  keeps  on  clapping  her  hands,  to  intimate  that  she  has 
not  changed  her  position.  The  seance  is  held  in  darkness, 
and  the  manifestations  consist  of  "  direct  voices,"  i.e. 
voices  that  every  one  can  hear,  and  by  what  they  say  to 
you,  you  must  judge  of  their  identity  and  truthfulness.  I 
had  only  witnessed  powers  of  this  kind  once  before — ■ 
through  Mrs.  Bassett,  who  is  now  Mrs.  Heme — but  as  no 
one  spoke  to  me  through  her  whom  I  recognized,  I  have 
omitted  to  give  any  account  of  it. 

As  soon  as  Maud  Lord's  sitting  was  fully  established,  I 
heard  her  addressing  various  members  of  the  company, 
telling  them  who  stood  beside  them,  and  I  heard  them 
putting  questions  to,  or  holding  conversations  with,  crea- 
ture who  were  invisible  to  me.  The  time  went  on,  and  I 
believed  I  was  going  to  be  left  out  of  it,  when  I  heard  a 
voice  close  to  my  ear  whisper,  "Arthur."  At  the  same 
moment  Maud  Lord's  voice  sounded  in  my  direction,  saying 
that  the  lady  in  the  brown  velvet  hat  had  a  gentleman 
standing  near  her,  named  "  Arthur,"  who  wished  to  be 
recognized.  I  was  the  only  lady  present  in  a  brown  velvet 
hat,  yet  I  could  not  recall  any  deceased  friend  of  the 
name  of  "  Arthur  "  who  might  wish  to  communicate  with 
me.  (It  is  a  constant  occurrence  at  a  seance  that  the 
mind  refuses  to  remember  a  name,  or  a  circumstance,  and 
on  returning  home,  perhaps  the  whole  situation  makes  it- 
self clear,  and  one  wonders  how  one  could  have  been  so 
dull  as  not  to  perceive  it.)     So  I  said  that  I  knew  no  one 


256  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

in  the  spirit-world  of  that  name,  and  Maud  Lord  replied, 
"  Well,  he  knows  you,  at  all  events."  A  few  more  minutes 
elapsed,  when  I  felt  a  touch  on  the  third  finger  of  my  left 
hand,  and  the  voice  spoke  again  and  said,  "Arthur! 
*  Artlmr's  ring.'  Have  you  quite  forgotten  ?  "  This  action 
brought  the  person  to  my  memory,  and  I  exclaimed,  "  Oh  I 
Johnny   Cope^  is  it  you?  " 

To  explain  this,  I  must  tell  my  readers  tliat  when  I 
went  out  to  India  in  1854,  Arthur  Cope  of  the  Lancers 
was  a  passenger  by  the  same  steamer;  and  when  we 
landed  in  Madras,  he  made  me  a  present  of  a  diamond 
ring,  which  I  wore  at  that  seance  as  a  guard.  But  he  was 
never  called  by  anything  but  his  nickname  of  "Johnny," 
so  that  his  real  appellation  had  quite  slipped  my  memory. 
The  poor  fellow  died  in  1856  or  1857,  and  I  had  been 
ungrateful  enough  to  forget  all  about  him,  and  should 
never  have  remembered  his  name  had  it  not  been  coupled 
with  the  ring.  It  would  have  been  still  more  remarkable, 
though,  if  Maud  Lord,  who  had  never  seen  me  till  that 
evening,  had  discovered  an  incident  which  happened 
thirty  years  before,  and  which  I  had  completely  forgotten. 

Before  I  had  been  many  days  in  New  York,  I  fell 
ill  again  from  exposing  myself  to  the  weather,   this  time 

with  a  bad  throat.     Mr.  S and  I   slept  in  the   same 

room,  and  our  sitting-room  opened  into  the  bedroom.  She 
was  indefatigable  in  her  attentions  and  kindness  to  me 
during  my  illness,  and  kept  running  backwards  and  for- 
wards from  the  bedroom  to  the  sitting-room,  both  by 
night  and  day,  to  get  me  fresh  poultices,  which  she  kept 
hot  on  the  steam  stove. 

One  evening  about  eleven  o'clock  she  got  out  of  bed  in 
her  nightdress,  and  went  into  the  next  room  for  this  pur- 
pose. Almost  directly  after  she  entered  it,  I  heard  a 
heavy  fall.  I  called  her  by  name,  and  receiving  no  answer, 
became  frightened,  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  followed  her. 
To  my  consternation,  I  found  her  stretched  out,  at  full 
length,  on  a  white  bearskin  rug,  and  quite  insensible.  She 
was  a  delicate  woman,  and  I  thought  at  first  that  she  had 
fainted  from  fatigue  ;  but  when  she  showed  no  signs  of 
returning  consciousness,  I  became  alarmed.  I  was  very 
weak  myself  from  my  illness,  and  hardly  able  to  stand, 
but  I  managed  to  put  on  a  dressing-gown  and  summon 
the  assistance  of  a  lady  who  occupied  the  room  next  to  us. 


THERE  IS  1^0  DEATH.  >i<*i 

and  whose  acquaintance  we  had  already  made.      She  was 

strong  and  capable,  and  helped  me  to  place  Mrs.  S 

upon  the  sofa,  where  she  lay  in  the  same  condition.  After 
we  had  done  all  we  could  think  of  to  bring  her  to  herself 
without  effect,  the  next-door  lady  became  frightened.  She 
said  to  me,  "  I  don't  like  this.  I  think  we  ought  to  call  in 
a  doctor.  Supposing  she  were  to  die  without  regaining 
consciousness."  I  replied,  "  I  should  say  the  same,  ex- 
cepting I  begin  to  believe  she  has  not  fainted  at  all,  but  is 
in  a  trance  ;  and  in  that  case,  any  violent  attempts  to 
bring  her  to  herself  might  injure  her.  Just  see  how  quietly 
she  breathes,  and  how  very  young  she  looks." 

When  her  attention  was  called  to  this  fact,  the  next- 
door  lady  was  astonished.    Mrs.  S ,  who  was  a  woman 

past  forty,  looked  like  a  girl  of  sixteen.  She  was  a  very 
pretty  woman,  but  with  a  dash  of  temper  in  her  expres- 
sion which  spoiled  it.  Now  with  all  the  passions  and 
lines  smoothed  out  of  it,  she  looked  perfectly  lovely.  So 
she  might  have  looked  in  death.  But  she  was  not  dead. 
She  was  breathing.  So  I  felt  sure  that  the  spirit  had 
escaped  for  a  while  and  left  her  free.  I  covered  her  up 
warmly  on  the  sofa,  and  determined  to  leave  her  there  till 
the  trance  had  passed.  After  a  while  I  persuaded  the 
next-door  lady  to  think  as  I  did,  and  to  go  back  to  her  own 
bed.  As  soon  as  she  had  gone,  I  administered  my  own 
poultice,  and  sat  down  to  watch  beside  my  friend.  The 
time  went  on  until  seven  in  the  morning — seven  hours  she 
had  lain,  without  moving  a  limb,  upon  the  sofa — when, 
without  any  warning,  she  sat  up  and  gazed  about  her.  I 
called  her  by  name,  and  asked  her  what  she  wanted  ;  but 
I  could  see  at  once,  by  her  expression,  that  she  did  not 
know  me.  Presently  she  asked  me,  "  Who  are  you?  "  I 
told  her.  "  Are  you  Kate's  friend  ? "  she  said.  I  an- 
swered, "Yes."  "Do  you  know  who /am?"  was  the 
next  question,  which,  of  course,  I  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. Mrs.  S thereupon  gave  me  the  name  of  a  Ger- 
man gentleman  which  I  had  never  heard  before.  An 
extraordinary    scene  then   followed.     Influenced  by   the 

spirit  that  possessed  her,  Mrs.  S rose  and  unlocked  a 

cabinet  of  her  own,  which  stood  in  the  room,  and  taking 
thence  a  bundle  of  old  letters,  she  selected  several  and 
read  portions  of  them  aloud  to  me.  She  then  told  me  a 
history  of  herself  and  the  gentleman  whose  spirit  was  speak- 

17 


as8  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

ing  through  her,  and  gave  me  several  messages  to  deliver  to 
herself  the  following  day.  It  will  be  sufficient  for  me  to 
say  that  this  history  was  of  so  private  a  nature,  that  it  was 
most  unlikely  she  would  have  confided  it  to  me  or  any 
one,  particularly  as  she  was  a  woman  of  a  most  secretive 
nature  ;  but  names,  addresses,  and  even  words  of  conver- 
sations were  given,  in  a  manner  which  would  have  left  no 

room  for  doubt  of  their  truthfulness,   even  if  Mrs.  S 

had  not  confirmed  them  to  be  facts  afterwards.  This  went 
on  for  a  long  time,  the  spirit  expressing  the  greatest  ani- 
mosity  against  Mrs.   S all  the  while,  and  then    the 

power  seemed  suddenly  to  be  spent,  and  she  went  off  to 
sleep  again  upon  the  sofa,  waking  up  naturally  about  an 
hour  afterwards,  and  very  much  surprised  to  hear  what 
had  happened  to  her  meanwhile.  When  we  came  to 
consider  the  matter,  we  found  that  this  unexpected  seizure 
had  taken  place  upon  the  i']th  of  March,  the  day  pre- 
dicted by  Mrs.  Philips  four  years  previously  as  one  on 

which  a  new  era  would  commence  for  Mrs.  S .    From 

that  time  she  continually  went  into  trances,  and  used  to 
predict  the  future  for  herself  and  others ;  but  whether  she 
has  kept  it  up  to  this  day  I  am  unable  to  say,  as  I  have 
heard  nothing  from  her  since  I  left  America. 

That  event  took  place  on  the  13th  of  June,  1885.  We 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  spending  our  Sunday  evenings  in 
Miss  Roberts'  siance  room,  and  she  begged  me  not  to  miss 
the  last  opportunity.  When  we  arrived  there,  we  found 
that  the  accompanist  who  usually  played  the  harmonium 
for  them  was  unable  to  be  present,  and  Miss  Roberts  asked 
if  I  would  be  his  substitute.  I  said  I  would,  on  condition 
that  they  moved  the  instrument  on  a  line  with  the  cabinet, 
so  that  I  might  not  lose  a  sight  of  what  was  going  on. 
This  was  accordingly  done,  and  I  commenced  to  play 
"Thou  art  gone  from  my  gaze."  Almost  immediately 
"  John  Powles  "  stepped  out,  dressed  in  uniform,  and  stood 
by  the  harmonium  with  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder.  "  I 
never  was  much  of  a  singer,  yon  know,  Flo,"  he  said  to 
me  ;  "  but  if  you  will  sing  that  song  with  me,  I'll  try  and 
go  through  it."  And  he  actually  did  sing  (after  a  fashion) 
the  entire  two  verses  of  the  ballad,  keeping  his  hand  on 
my  shoulder  the  whole  time.  When  we  came  to  the  line, 
"  I  seek  thee  in  vain  by  the  meadow  and  stream,"  he  stooped 
down  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  "  Not  quite  in  vain,  Flo, 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  259 

has  it  been  ?  "  I  do  not  know  if  my  English  Spiritualistic 
friends  can  **  cap  "  this  story,  but  in  America  they  told 
me  it  was  quite  a  unique  performance,  particularly  at  a 
public  stance,  where  the  jarring  of  so  many  diverse  in- 
fluences often  hinders  instead  of  helping  the  manifestations. 
"Powles"  appeared  to  be  especially  strong  on  that 
occasion.  Towards  the  middle  of  the  evening  a  kind  of 
whining  was  heard  to  proceed  from  the  cabinet  ;  and  Miss 
Roberts,  who  was  not  entranced,  said,  "  There's  a  baby 
coming  out  for  Miss  Marryat."  At  the  same  time  the  face 
of  little  "  Yonnie  "  appeared  at  the  opening  of  the  curtains, 
but  nearly  level  with  the  ground,  as  she  was  crawling  out 
on  all  fours.  Before  she  had  had  time  to  advance  beyond 
them,  "  Powles  "  stepped  over  her  and  came  amongst  us. 
"Oh,  Powles  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "you  used  to  love  my  little 
babies.  Do  pick  up  that  one  for  me  that  I  may  see  it 
properly."  He  immediately  returned,  took  up  "  Yonnie," 
and  brought  her  out  into  the  circle  on  his  arm.  The 
contrast  of  the  baby's  white  kind  of  nightgown  with  his 
scarlet  uniform  was  very  striking.  He  carried  the  child  to 
each  sitter  that  it  might  be  thoroughly  examined  ;  and 
when  he  had  returned  "  Yonnie  "  to  the  cabinet,  he  came 
out  again  on  his  own  account.  That  evening  I  was  sum- 
moned into  the  cabinet  myself  by  the  medium's  guide,  a 
little  Italian  girl,  who  had  materialized  several  times  for 
our  benefit.  When  I  entered  it,  I  stumbled  up  against 
Miss  Roberts'  chair.  There  was  barely  room  for  me  to 
stand  beside  it.  She  said  to  me,  "  Is  \\\dX  you.,  Miss  Mar- 
ryat ?  "  and  I  replied,  "  Yes  ;  didn't  you  send  for  me  ?  " 
She  said  "  No  ;  I  didn't  send,  I  know  nothing  about  it !  " 
A  voice  behind  me  said,  "/sent  for  you  !"  and  at  the 
same  moment  two  strong  arms  were  clasped  round  my 
waist,  and  a  man's  face  kissed  me  over  my  shoulder.  I 
asked,  "  Who  are  you  ?  "  and  he  replied,  "  Walk  out  of  the 
cabinet  and  you  shall  see."  I  turned  round,  two  hands 
were  placed  upon  my  shoulders,  and  I  walked  back  into 
the  circle  with  a  tall  man  walking  behind  me  in  that  posi- 
tion. When  I  could  look  at  him  in  the  gaslight,  I  re- 
cognized my  brother,  Frank  Marryat,  who  died  in  1855, 
and  whom  I  had  never  seen  since.     Of  course,  the  other 

spirits  who  were  familiar  with  Mrs.  S and  myself  came 

to  wish  me  a  pleasant  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  but  I 
have  mentioned  them  all  so  often  that  I  fear  I  must  already 


26o  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

have  tired  out  the  patience  of  my  readers.  But  in  order 
to  be  impressive  it  is  so  necessary  to  be  explicit.  All  I 
can  bring  forward  in  excuse  is,  that  every  word  I  have 
written  is  the  honest  and  unbiassed  truth.  Here,  there- 
fore, ends  the  account  of  my  experience  in  Spiritualism  up 
to  the  present  moment — not,  by  any  means,  the  half,  nor 
yet  the  quarter  of  it,  but  all  I  consider  likely  to  interest 
the  general  public.  And  those  who  have  been  interested 
in  it  may  see  their  own  friends  as  I  have  done,  if  they  will 
only  take  the  same  trouble  that  I  have  done. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  261 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

' QUI  BONO  ?  " 

My  friends  have  so  often  asked  me  this  question,  that  I 
tliink,  before  I  close  this  book,  I  am  justified  in  answering 
it,  at  all  events,  as  far  as  I  myself  am  concerned.  How 
often  have  I  sat,  surrounded  by  an  interested  audience, 
who  knew  me  too  well  to  think  me  either  a  lunatic  or  a 
liar  ;  and  after  I  have  told  them  some  of  the  most  mar- 
vellous and  thrilling  of  my  experiences,  they  have  assailed 
me  with  these  questions,  "  But  what  is  it  ?  And  what  ^<7o^ 
does  it  do  ?  What  is  it  ?  "  There,  my  friends,  I  confess 
you  stagger  me  !  I  can  no  more  tell  you  what  it  is  than  I 
can  tell  you  what  yott  are  or  what  /  am.  We  know  that, 
like  Topsy,  we  "  grew."  We  know  that,  given  certain 
conditions  and  favorable  accessories,  a  child  comes  into 
this  world,  and  a  seed  sprouts  through  the  dark  earth  and 
becomes  a  flower  ;  but  though  we  know  the  cause  and  see 
the  effect,  the  greatest  man  of  science,  or  the  greatest 
botanist,  cannot  tell  you  how  the  child  is  made,  nor  how 
the  plant  grows.  Neither  can  I  (or  any  one)  tell  you  what 
the  power  is  that  enables  a  spirit  to  make  itself  apparent. 
I  can  only  say  that  it  can  do  so,  and  refer  you  to  the  Crea- 
tor of  you  and  me  and  the  entire  universe.  The  common- 
est things  the  earth  produces  are  all  miracles,  from  the 
growing  of  a  mustard  seed  to  the  expansion  of  a  human 
brain.  What  is  more  wonderful  than  the  hatching  of  an 
egg  ?  You  see  it  done  every  day.  It  has  become  so  com- 
mon that  you  regard  it  as  an  event  of  no  consequence. 
You  know  the  exact  number  of  days  the  bird  must  sit  to 
produce  a  live  chicken  with  all  its  functions  ready  for 
nature's  use,  but  you  see  nothing  wonderful  in  it.  All 
birds  can  do  the  same,  and  you  would  not  waste  your  time 
in  speculating  on  the  wondrous  effect  of  heat  upon  a  liquid 
substance  which  turns  to  bone  and  blood  and  flesh  and 
feathers. 

If  you  were  as  familiar  with  the  reappearance  of  those 
who  have  gone  before  as  you  are  with  chickens,  you  would 


262  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

see  nothing  supernatural  in  their  manifesting  themselves 
to  you,  and  nothing  more  miraculous  than  in.  the  birth  of  a 
child  or  the  hatching  of  an  egg.  Why  should  it  be  ?  Who 
has  fixed  the  abode  of  the  spirit  after  death  ?  Who  can 
say  where  it  dwells,  or  that  it  is  not  permitted  to  return 
to  this  world,  perhaps  to  live  in  it  altogether  ?  Still,  how- 
ever the  Almighty  sends  them,  the  fact  remains  that  they 
come,  and  that  thousands  can  testify  to  the  fact.  As  to 
the  theory  advanced  by  some  people  that  they  are  devils, 
sent  to  lure  us  to  our  destruction,  that  is  an  insult  to  the 
wisdom  or  mercy  of  an  Omnipotent  Creator.  They  cannot 
come  except  by  His  permission,  just  as  He  sends  children 
to  some  people  and  withholds  them  from  others.  And  the 
conversation  of  most  of  those  that  I  have  talked  with  is  all 
on  the  side  of  religion,  prayer,  and  self-sacrifice.  My 
friends,  at  all  events,  have  never  denied  the  existence  of 
a  God  or  a  Saviour.  They  have,  on  the  contrary  (and 
especially  "  Florence  "),  been  very  quick  to  rebuke  me  for 
anything  I  may  have  done  that  was  wrong,  for  neglect  of 
prayer  and  church-going,  for  speaking  evil  of  my  neigh- 
bors, or  any  other  fault.  They  have  continually  incul- 
cated the  doctrine  that  religion  consists  in  unselfish  love 
to  our  fellow-creatures,  and  in  devotion  to  God.  I  do  not 
deny  that  there  are  frivolous  and  occasionally  wicked 
spirits  about  us.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  ?  For  one  spirit 
that  leaves  this  world  calculated  to  do  good  to  his  fellow- 
creatures,  a  hundred  leave  it  who  will  do  him  harm.  That 
is  really  the  reason  that  the  Church  discourages  Spirit- 
ualism. She  does  not  disbelieve  in  it.  She  knows  it  to  be 
true  ;  but  she  also  knows  it  to  be  dangerous.  Since  like 
attracts  like,  the  numbers  of  thoughtless  spirits  who  still 
dwell  on  earth  would  naturally  attract  the  numbers  of 
thoughtless  spirits  who  have  left  it,  and  their  influence  is 
best  dispensed  with.  Talk  of  devils.  I  have  known  many 
more  devils  in  the  flesh  than  out  of  it,  and  could  name  a 
number  of  acquaintances  who,  when  once  passed  out  of 
this  world,  I  should  steadfastly  refuse  to  have  any  com- 
munication with.  I  have  no  doubt  myself  whatever  as  to 
what  it  is,  or  that  I  have  seen  my  dear  friends  and  children 
as  I  knew  them  upon  earth.  But  how  they  come  or  where 
they  go,  I  must  wait  until  I  join  them  to  ascertain,  even  if 
I  shall  do  it  then. 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  2.(>i 

The  second  question,  however,  I  can  more  easily  deal 
with,  What  good  is  it?  The  only  wonder  to  me  is  that 
people  who  are  not  stone-blind  to  what  is  going  on  in  this 
world  can  put  such  a  question.  What  good  is  it  to  have 
one's  faith  in  Immortality  and  another  life  confirmed  in  an 
age  of  freethought,  scepticism  and  utter  callousness  ?  When 
I  look  around  me  and  see  the  young  men  nowadays — ay, 
and  the  young  women  too — who  believe  in  no  hereafter, 
who  lie  down  and  die,  like  the  dumb  animals  who  cannot 
be  made  to  understand  the  love  of  the  dear  God  who 
created  them  although  they  feel  it,  I  cannot  think  of  any- 
thing calculated  to  do  them  more  good  than  the  return  of 
a  father  or  a  mother  or  a  friend,  who  could  convince  them 
by  ocular  demonstration  that  there  is  a  future  life  and 
happiness  and  misery,  according  to  the  one  we  have  led 
here  below. 

"  Oh,  but,"  I  seem  to  hear  some  readers  exclaim,  "  we 
do  believe  in  all  that  you  say.  We  have  been  taught  so 
from  our  youth  up,  and  the  Bible  points  to  it  in  every 
line."  You  may  think  you  believe  it,  my  friends,  and  in  a 
theoretical  way  you  may  ;  but  you  do  not  realize  it,  and 
the  whole  of  your  lives  proves  it.  Death,  instead  of  being 
the  blessed  portal  to  the  Life  Elysian,  the  gate  of  which 
may  swing  open  for  you  any  day,  and  admit  you  to  eternal 
and  unfading  happiness,  is  a  far-off  misty  phantom,  whose 
approach  you  dread,  and  the  sight  of  which  in  others  you 
run  away  from.  The  majority  of  people  avoid  the  very 
mention  of  death.  They  would  not  look  at  a  corpse  for 
anything  ;  the  sight  of  a  coffin  or  a  funeral  or  a  graveyard 
fills  them  with  horror ;  the  idea  of  it  for  themselves  makes 
them  turn  pale  with  fright.  Is  this  belief  in  the  existence 
of  a  tender  Father  and  a  blessed  home  waiting  to  receive 
them  on  the  other  side  ?  Even  professed  Christian  expe- 
rience what  they  term  a  "  natural "  horror  at  the  thought 
of  death!  I  have  known  persons  of  fixed  religious  princi- 
ples who  had  passed  their  lives  (apparently)  in  prayer, 
and  expressed  their  firm  belief  in  Heaven  waiting  for  them, 
fight  against  death  with  all  their  mortal  energies,  and  try 
their  utmost  to  baffle  the  disease  that  was  sent  to  carry 
them  to  everlasting  happiness.  Is  this  logical  ?  It  is  tan- 
tamount in  my  idea  to  the  pauper  in  the  workhouse  who 
knows  that  directly  the  gate  is  open  to  let  him  through,  he 
will  pass  from  skilly,  oakum,  and  solitary  confinement  to 


264  THERE  IS  NO  DEATH. 

the  King's  Palace  to  enjoy  youth,  healthy  and  prosperity 
evermore  ;  and  who,  when  he  sees  the  gates  beginning  to 
unclose,  puts  his  back  and  all  his  neighbors'  backs  against 
them  to  keep  them  shut  as  long  as  possible. 

Death  should  not  be  a  "  horror  "  to  any  one;  and  if  we 
knew  more  about  it,  it  would  cease  to  be  so.  It  is  the 
mystery  that  appals  us.  We  see  our  friends  die,  and  no 
word  or  sign  comes  back  to  tell  us  that  there  is  no  death, 
so  we  picture  them  to  ourselves  mouldering  in  the  damp 
earth  till  we  nearly  go  mad  with  grief  and  dismay.  Some 
people  think  me  heartless  because  I  never  go  near  the 
graves  of  those  whom  I  love  best.  Why  should  I  ?  I 
might  with  more  reason  go  and  sit  beside  a  pile  of  their 
cast-off  garments.  I  could  see  them,  and  they  would 
actually  retain  more  of  their  identity  and  influence  than 
the  corpse  which  I  could  not  see.  I  mourn  their  loss  just 
the  same,  but  I  mourn  it  as  I  should  do  if  they  had  settled 
for  life  in  a  far  distant  land,  from  which  I  could  only  enjoy 
occasional  glimpses  of  their  happiness. 

And  I  may  say  emphatically  that  the  greatest  good 
Spiritualism  does  is  to  remove  the  fear  of  one's  own  death. 
One  can  never  be  quite  certain  of  the  changes  that  circum- 
stances may  bring  about,  nor  do  I  like  to  boast  overmuch. 
Disease  and  weakness  may  destroy  the  nerve  I  flatter  my- 
self on  possessing  ;  but  I  think  I  may  say  that  as  matters 
stand  at  present  ///atz'*?  no  fear  of  death  whatever,  and  the 
only  trouble  I  can  foresee  in  passing  through  it  will  be  to 
witness  the  distress  of  my  friends.  But  when  I  remember 
all  those  who  have  gathered  on  the  other  side,  and  whom  I 
firmly  believe  will  be  present  to  help  me  in  my  passage 
there,  I  can  feel  nothing  but  a  great  curiosity  to  pierce  the 
mysteries  as  yet  unrevealed  to  me,  and  a  great  longing  for 
the  time  to  come  when  I  shall  join  those  whom  I  loved  so 
much  on  earth.  Not  to  be  happy  at  once  by  any  manner 
of  means.  I  am  too  sinful  a  mortal  for  that,  but  "  to  work 
out  my  salvation  "  in  the  way  God  sees  best  for  me,  to 
make  my  own  heaven  or  hell  according  as  I  have  loved 
and  succoured  my  fellow-creatures  here  below.  Yet  how- 
ever much  I  may  be  destined  to  suffer,  never  without  hope 
and  assistance  from  those  whom  I  have  loved,  and  never 
without  feeling  that  through  the  goodness  of  God  each 
struggle  or  reparation  brings  me  near  to  the  fruition  ol 
eternal  happiness.    This  is  my  belief,  tliis  is  the  good  that 


THERE  IS  NO  DEATH.  265 

the  certain  knowledge  that  we  can  never  die  has  done  for 
me,  and  tlie  worst  I  wish  for  anybody  is  that  they  may 
share  it  with  me. 

Oh  !  though  oft  depressed  and  lonely, 

All  my  fears  are  laid  aside, 
If  I  but  remember  only 

Such  as  these  have  lived  and  died." 


THE  END. 


OF  THE     "^    X 

UNIVERSITY  I 


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13,    ®n  CtCCUmgtatial  BvlDence    -     By  Florence  Marryat 

This  is  a  story  in  which  love  and  intrigue  are  the  two  disturbing 
elements.  Miss  Marryat  is  well-known  to  the  readers  of  senti- 
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Is  a  novel  whose  story  is  supposed  to  be  told  by  a  man  who  con. 
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novel  deals  with  the  most  remarkable  incidents  in  that  sort  of  a 
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84.  Ube  TRtv?aI  ^rlncegg 

By  Justin  McCarthy  and  Mrs.  Campbell  Praed 

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